Sometimes I think about having children. Someone who's a mini version of me (may it be boy or girl) and who can spread my wisdom across the world. Then sometimes I realise that maybe I wouldn't be the best mother in the world. I mean, a child can have a few drops of alcohol before boarding a plane right? To make it fall asleep?
I'm supposed to have been a horrible child. After what I've heard I poked my sister in the eyes until they started bleeding. Another story talks about how I used to walk after her and sit on her back when I was three and she was one. It's a wonder that my parents didn't beat the living crap out of me. It's a miracle that my sister speaks to me.
Maybe I'll just carry the kids for nine months and then pop them out and let Mr. English deal with them while I work. Or we could just hire a babysitter. Ah, decisions, decisions... It's probably a good thing that I'm not having kids right now. Those poor children...
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