I like kids. I like to hold them (preferably when they’re not crying or throwing up), play with them, sing to them, talk to them, rock them to sleep, etc.
But this does not mean that I want children.
For some reason this is hard for people to reconcile.
My best friend was in town this past week with her 3-month-old son. I LOVED meeting and hanging out with him (the interesting conversations are a ways off, but if he turns out to be anything like his mama, he will definitely be a talker one day). It was, for the most part, groovy having him around. He’s a good baby, and quite adorable, and I was happy to help out with him when I could.
Nonetheless, I am exhausted now (they left yesterday morning). I can’t imagine having to have him around and tend to his needs 24/7. At this point in my life, the idea of having “one of my own” is about as appealing to me as the idea of eating a dog-pee-encrusted sponge.
Honestly, though, I don’t know which was more exhausting: the baby himself, or ALL! of the other people who used my enjoyment of him as an opportunity to start bugging ME to have kids!
I’m telling you, if I’d had to hear ONE MORE PERSON tell me that:
a) it would be HORRIBLE for me not to have children, because I’m “so good with them”
b) being “so good with them” must be indicative of heavy denial on my part about how much I secretly really want them, or
c) enjoyment of other peoples’ kids will never give me the fulfillment I’d get if I had kids of my own,
I would have lost it.
Don’t get me wrong–I realize that Comment (A) was usually meant to be a compliment, but really, it sort of came across the way it used to come across when people wondered aloud why the hell I was still single. Sure, they may have MEANT “I think you’re quite smart/attractive/witty/kind,” but what they ended up saying was something that sounded more like, “How did YOU wind up in the ‘REJECT’ pile?” or “You are an aberration. You must be fixed.”
Granted, I may be a little overly defensive on these issues, but I am here to tell you that if ONE MORE person had uttered yet another variation of, “But you’re so GOOD with kids–you HAVE to have some of your own!” I was primed and ready to blurt, “Yeah? Well, I’m also a phenomenal fuck–does that mean I should become a prostitute? Every talent does not have to become a career, you know.” 
It’s enough to make you want to avoid touching a baby ever again.
So to featherlou’s list, I’d like to add:
Don’t assume that my enjoyment of your children means that I have a secret, unyielding yen for a child of my own. Instead, it might be in your best interest to hope that I stay child-free, so that you’ll have somewhere to send your kids for two weeks in the summer, when you need a break from them.