That’s the best reply so far I’ve come up with for the assorted dildos who insist on asking me why I haven’t had another child. I’ve spent the last four years or so patiently explaining that:
(a) I’m too old. If I’d had my first child younger I might have considered trying for a second baby. I’ve had some gynaecological problems that would probably mean a high-risk pregnancy. But, if I did get pregnant accidentally I’d probably go through with it.
(b) One child is enough. Another child would be a struggle for us, economically. Quality, not quantity and all that.
I’ve now realised that these people don’t listen to reason. In fact they don’t listen at all, so I may as well amuse myself with alternative replies.
Please, clever, witty and - as this is the Pit - rude people of the SDMB: chime in with your suggestions. Special points awarded for replies to the question: “Aren’t you going to have a daughter?”
My standard response when someone asks me, ‘Don’t you want to have children?’
is ‘No, I prefer older men.’*
*No worries, this answer is reserved for only those annoying people who nag and persist and can’t let it go when they learn I have no children, am nearly 40, and for goodness sake, time is running out! Am happy with being a biological dud and enjoying other people’s kiddies.
The next time someone asks you that, immediately burst into hysterical tears. Really put on a show of keening, moaning, shuddering grief, and keep making vague gesticulations towards your lower abdomen, and every now and then gasp, “The doctor said…h-h-he said…OHMYGAWWWWD…” and start sobbing even harder.
All good stuff, keep 'em coming. Mockingbird, I love your way of thinking. My husband, who is just as annoyed by the whole thing as I am, even suggested I deal with his mother’s persistent questioning on the subject by ‘confiding’ that her son was impotent. :eek:
Ooh, thanks! I have performed a restrained version of this once or twice - telling nosy neighbours and strangers who ask “unfortunately, I can’t have any more children” with the most tragic expression I can muster. They in turn, compound my irritation with a comment about it being “god’s will”.
If you want to pay for the flea collars, water bowls, and the distemper shots I suppose I can be convinced to be a nauseous incubator for nine months.
The one we already have was able to dodge the coat hanger. I’m afraid with the bovine growth hormones in our milk that the next one would bend it and then use my ovary as a speed bag as revenge.
But didn’t you know? We did have a daughter, but hubby really wanted a son and the surgery for the change was so terribly expensive, I don’t think we could afford switching him back!
There was a line from a Tom Hanks movie (“Bachelor Party”?) where the prospective father-in-law asks something like “Do you want children?” To which he responds “Yeah… in fact I’ve got my eye on this thirteen-year-old Vietnamese girl.”
I don’t know; a properly delivered ripost can leave the questioner nicely speechless, and if they do manage to choke out another question you can follow it up with a nice bit of snark. How about something along the lines of “I’m sorry, was that a proposal?” or “Why? Do you want to buy an extra?” Personally, I’d put on my best DeNiro look and give them the “Why the fuck do you care so much?”, but even pointed bluntness doesn’t put off some people.
If you think you’ve it bad, try being 30+ and having no kids, working around people who think the Little League game and backyard barbeque is the end-all, be-all of human existance. I’ve a woman here at work that asks me at least twice a month, “So when are you going to get married and have some kids?” or some variation thereof, as if it’s any of her business (or, given the state of her own offspring, she should even make a comment.) I am more fortunate than many, though, insofar as my parential units in all their apathetic glory don’t really pressure me to have children, though the Y-chromosome donator has hinted at it a few times, the hypocritical fucktard.
People these days need to learn some boundries–you know, about disclosing information about their private medical issues involving bodily fluids or excessive interest in another’s financial or family plans–and it’s no vice or rudeness to express them unambiguously.
You know, it probably says something about me that I honestly thought you were referring to talking dildos. You know, that they’d suddenly come to life and were complaining about their lack of use or something.
