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    I Don't Like Your Kids
    I Don't Like Your Kids
    I Don't Like Your Kids
    Ebook102 pages1 hour

    I Don't Like Your Kids

    By Brian Craig

    ()

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    About this ebook

    In 2016, a three-year-old climbed into the gorilla pen at Cincinnati Zoo and was seized by a large silverback. Fearful staff called in armed gamekeepers but they missed and shot the gorilla. Brian Craig gives a sharp reminder of why we don't want children of our own and don't have much time for yours.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBrian Craig
    Release dateJun 3, 2024
    ISBN9798619183856
    I Don't Like Your Kids
    Author

    Brian Craig

    Brian Craig uses a pen name because his real name is far too long. He studied at the University of Auckland and has lived and worked in Asia and the Middle East as a teacher, corporate trainer and flight attendant. He writes full time pretty much whatever comes into his head.

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      Book preview

      I Don't Like Your Kids - Brian Craig

      Foreword

      ––––––––

      Without access to a home computer for a few weeks, I was run out of the internet café by teenage boys – who were probably high on something – whooping loudly and hollering to one another as they played video games online. The library, just across the park, was usually a bastion of tranquility and they generously offered free use of a rank of six PCs to members for up to two hours a day.

      As I entered the front door, a young mother arrived with her brood in tow: two children of about five and three years. I graciously let them go first - it’s what we do where I come from - and though I dispute the idea that young parents should have right of way just because, I have long recognized it is far easier just to let them do what the hell they want. 

      They will anyway. That’s what the ‘Baby on Board’ stickers are for after all isn’t it? We’re not fooled.

      The computers were full, so I loitered in the magazine section for a few minutes and returned. By that time three of the PCs were free and the young mother was just taking her seat at one of them. Or perhaps they had suddenly become free because the young mother was taking her seat at one of them. She then set up the toddlers with playing blocks right behind the PCs ensuring it would be impossible to get any quiet work done. I understood that despite the availability of the kids’ play area, the mother, wanting to work on the computers, would also like to keep her children in check. Such is the life they have after the choice they made.

      I however had chosen to work quietly in a quiet space and desiring such peace in a baby-obsessed community was probably hoping for a bit much. The fault was clearly mine and I sulkily left the library, realizing I would get no work done that afternoon. The fault, of course being that I just can’t stand small children.

      This takes some getting used to for most people who hear it for the first time.  Many are simply offended by the concept – though it seems to be perfectly alright not to like dogs or cats or, from often the same doting parents who see themselves remarkably free of prejudice, Asian drivers.  No, I am far more put off by running, slobbering, spilling, squealing, bawling, chirruping, shouting, crying, even laughing children. Victorian discipline held children should be seen and not heard.  I prefer neither.

      At over forty I can comfortably announce I do not want children. I can be sure of it. If it were twenty years ago the wise aunt could roll her eyes and say, ‘You’ll change your mind one day, dear.’ I have not. Moreover I have crafted a life and world around myself that is mostly devoid of the company of youngsters and I feel I am missing out on exactly nothing. Worse, I’d be missing out my world if I went ahead and had kids.

      My sister doesn’t want a dog in the house. Her view seems to be more socially acceptable. Most people want children.  A good deal who don’t will end up having them anyway. Most of them will likely come to be fulfilled and happy parents. Good for them. Not me. I don’t expect it would make me particularly happy.

      I could perhaps under certain circumstances have children one day, but it is not on my bucket list, but most certainly a poor second, third or hundredth alternative to all the things I would like to do in life without a brood in tow. I do not want children.  Only reluctantly will I ever concede to fathering any. And then, like the punishment smug parents think should be meted out to those they consider too airy, irresponsible, immature or unrealistic to want children, I will suck it up and do my best, despite the massive inconvenience to my own goals. Hardly a glowing reference for parenthood, but you’ll get your wish and my life will suck more. You will probably gloat with obvious schadenfreude about how my life is so much ‘richer’ with children. Yuck.

      What is the life for people like us?  For men, some criticism; for women, considerably more. In the following pages I will take a look at what it means to be mature, usually single and childfree by choice, in a world and society that looks down on such preferences. 

      This book is about what makes me want to remain childless, what it is like to be childfree by choice and how we navigate the expectations of our friends and families while finding fulfillment in a childless life – and hopefully avoid your kids in the process. It is not a book about parenting – with exception of the exhortation not to let your brats run wild in public; contraception or sex-education; it is not about reproductive rights, the abortion debate or the unfortunate case of people who want children, but cannot conceive.

      It is not a sociological treatise or study, though occasional references will be made. It does not seek to balance ‘both sides’ of the argument – that much effort is hardly called for. It is most certainly not an apology for choosing to be childfree – I’ve seen enough of that and you won’t get one from me. It’s for those who have the courage to hear our side of the story for a change without preaching and lecturing on the joys of parenthood, or clucking tongues and disapproving. Think you can stomach it?

      1 - The Cult of Children

      ––––––––

      Let’s start by clearing the air. I don’t like your kids. I don’t like any kids. When people hear this they assume they can win us over, that their little angel is a cut above the rest and besides, even parents don’t always like other peoples’ kids, because they can be annoying even to those who love their own kids right? So you think well, that might be true for children in general, but surely not yours.

      Sorry, I don’t like your kids. I don’t like them much at all. I don't like them crying and I don’t particularly want to hear them laughing either. I don’t like them playing, the sound of their voices talking; I don’t like to see them running in libraries or supermarket aisles; staggering about erratically in public places, arms flailing and eyes lolling; I don’t like to see them fast asleep and drooling in a pushchair. I do not like your children. I cross the street when I see you coming with them. I grit my teeth and wait for you to pass. I change the aisle in the supermarket or my seat in the coffee shop. Your children repel me.

      It is not a reflection on your effort or skills at parenting. I have met many wonderful, well-raised children who are a credit to their parents. I still don't like their company, but they don’t annoy me quite as much as your little shit. I might compliment you on what a fine son or daughter you have, but it doesn't mean I want to hang out with them. Or you and them. Or just you, if you think I want to even hear about your children.

      I don’t care how they’re doing in school, at sport or in the local choir. If I ask out of courtesy a nonchalant ‘fine’ will suffice. There’s no need to go into details because I don’t really want to imagine your child doing stuff for that long. Whatever you do don’t volunteer information or raise the topic when we’re talking about other things. Your child is not what interests me about you.

      Now, why are you so offended by that? Is it

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