This is Parenthood (the baby and toddler phase)

Imagine considering this a totally reasonable arrangement.

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Imagine thinking 6 am is a fucking awesome sleep in.

Now, imagine a thin metal rod piercing your tits.

Imagine that rod making many small holes in your nipples so that yeast grows inside them and now your friends call you “sugar tits” but you don’t care because you are too busy scratching.

Imagine saying to your partner “hey honey come check out the color of my douche.”


And also imagine sleep becoming way sexier than a hand job.

Imagine telling your partner you have to be at work at 10 am when really you have to be there at noon but you want to sit in your car and catch up on emails.

Then when you come home, imagine telling your partner you have diarrhoea so you can sneak the computer into the toilet to get a bit more work done.

Imagine being woken 3-6 times every night by an air raid siren.

Then imagine that siren puking in your mouth.


Imagine sobbing “I can’t water the plants anymore…It’s just too much!” and meaning it.

Imagine running around the house at 2 am screaming “where’s the soozie? Find his motherfucking soozie”

And then imagine the next morning telling your neighbors 8-year-old daughter to “stop her incessant singing.”


Imagine this conversation:

Me: “Hey honey, can you get the thing from the thing?”

Him: “What do you mean?”

Me: “I just told you, get the thing…from the thing…”

Him: “Honestly hon, I have no..”.

Me: “Don’t fuck with me motherfucker, you know what I mean, it’s the blue thing inside the thing…right there…you use it on your…ah fuck!”

Imagine being so proud of this picture you text it to all your friends (not mine):


Imagine having tufts of hair yanked out frequently enough you have no more bangs.

Imagine talking to the convenience store clerk for 20 minutes and considering that kind of a “date.”

Imagine not being sure you even want this new addition because your career and travel plans and social life and relationship were already so fun and complete.

And then imagine watching them “clap” and deciding they might be an experimental music prodigy.


Imagine your vagina hiding under an unpenetrable thicket but that’s okay because if you trimmed it you’d finally see for yourself what a “gunt” looks like.

And then imagine forgetting all that…

…not because you can’t imagine a love greater- or anything profound like that…you just forget everything now.

This is parenthood.