I Learned How to Reproduce! Sorry World.Submitted by Cracked_out_cali at 2005-12-09 03:10:19 EST
Rating: 1.67 on 49 ratings (49 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
Well, it’s official folks. I’m gonna be a father.
My girlfriend had shown positive on a home pregnancy test, and we decided to go to the doctor yesterday to confirm it. And confirmed it was. I can easily say that it was the best/most fucked up day of my life.
Last night was spent worrying about vaccination, schools and all that other crap I’ve heard other’s bitch about after they got the “good news”. I called my parents to tell them they are gonna be grandparents at the ripe old age of 45.
Mom: “Oh Hijo (son in Spanish), that’s terrific news. I’m so excited for you and Denise.”
Dad: “You DO realize that your life is over, right? I hope you’ve accomplished everything you want in life. You gave me such a headache when you were a baby. You mother constantly had to stop me from tying you up in a pillowcase and dropping you off at the Goodwill.”
Mom: “Give me that phone! Don’t listen to your father, Christopher. You were a little angel. I couldn’t ask for a sweeter...”
Dad:(in the background) YOU WERE A MONSTER!
This went on for another 5 minutes before I hung up.
My friends weren’t of much help either. Every piece of advice they gave me involved either steel toed boots to the gut, or a rusty coat hanger.
After getting a full 3 hours of sleep, it dawned on me that my little sports compact isn’t a fitting family car. So this morning I went out and bought the new Charger. (Hey, who said that a family car had to be a minivan?)
So, after lunch, Denise and myself decided to sit down and have a serious conversation about the kid. She should know better than to think I can actually have a serious conversation, but I tried my best.
The first thing we talked about was the child’s confusion about its race. We are both interracial. I am half White and half Hispanic. She is half Korean and half Native American. But I was able to solve this problem VERY quickly...
“Our child is going to be White!”
“Wait, Chris, you can’t just say...”
“Woman, didn’t you hear me? My child is going to be white. Next issue.”
Our next subject was the baby’s name. No problem, I think. If it’s a girl, I like either Taylor Lindsay. If we have a boy, I like Brodie or Bryce. Short and sweet. Or so I thought.
“Well, if it’s a girl, I want to name it either Joo-eun or Dae. Both are of Korean herita...”
“Your joking, right, Denise?”
“No. And if its a boy, I want to name it Yuma, after my grandfather. What do you think?”
“What do I think? Well, I think you weren’t listening to me when I said our child is going to be white. Yeah, that’s what I think.”
“Well, how do you know our child will turn out white?”
Come on, now. Look how white I am. And your only half- Korean. The closest thing our kid is going to come to looking Asian is a slight squint in the eyes. And people will probably mistake it for a mild case of Downs Syndrome the majority of the time. And as for ‘Yuma’... well, I’m sure your grandpa was a great guy and all, but this isn’t the 1930's, and we don’t live on an Indian Reservation. How would you like it if I wanted to name it Gustavo, or Ernesto?”
“I wouldn’t mind at all.”
“You lying whore.” (note: calling your new baby-momma a lying whore is not a good move)
We talked for another hour or so, and found a happy median between the rest of the subjects. Then we came to our final topic, discipline. She believes in talking with the child about cause and effect of actions, time out in the corner, blah blah blah.
“How do YOU think we should discipline our kid, Chris?”
“Well, I’ll just beat the shit out of it until he or she learns not to fuck up.”
“What? You’ve got to be joking!?”
“Nope, I’m serious as a heart attack.”
“Why? Did your dad beat you when you were young?”
“Oh, no way. My dad never laid a finger on me. But I’ll tell you right now, I wouldn’t have done half the stupid shit I did if he had instilled a little fear in me. Plus, I think it builds character.”
That was it for her. She was done trying to make deals with me. She went into the kitchen to make dinner. I went out for a drive in my new toy. That’s when it hit me. The one thing that can possibly screw up my child’s whole life...
What if I have a son, and he receives the Asian gene in his dick? That could quite possibly ruin him. I can see it now...
“Dad, why is my dick so small?”
“Go ask your mom, son. It’s all HER fault.”
The one single moment that will cause him years of therapy later in life.
But in all reality, I am very excited about everything. I keep telling myself that I’m gonna be the most kick-ass dad ever...
If I have a son, I’m going to enjoy beating his ass at basketball until he’s about 16.
And if I have a girl, I’m going to enjoy sitting in the livingroom, cleaning my guns when boys come over to take her on dates.
A human. I am now responsible for taking care a freaking human being. To raise it, teach it, mold it...
Christ, I think I’m gonna puke...