by Adrianne Frost

I am not, what you might call, comfortable with children. Growing up, my siblings were 14-18 years older than I was. My parents, in their 40s when I was born, hung out only with adults. While other kids wanted to go outside and play, I mainly wanted to stay in the library and read quietly. I remember having my first friend over in the seventh grade or so. Before that I mainly read books far out of my age range. I mention this less to say “look how impressive a reader I was at a young age” and more to point out that few children ask their parents what the word “fellatio” means because it isn’t in the children’s dictionary and it seems an important word in the book “The Exorcist.”
None of my siblings had children, and most of my dad’s friends had older kids. Children however tend to like me, oddly, I think because I speak to them like adults, just like I wanted to be spoken to as a kid. I recall only holding a baby once, when forced to.
And herein is why I dislike children: because there is no other option. No one accepts “No, I don’t want to hold your baby.” But I DON’T. Yet I can’t say that. I think that’s bullshit. This is why the title of this book spoke to me. However, I think it would be better retitled:
I HATE PARENTS WHO DON’T PAY ATTENTION TO/SPOIL THEIR KIDS AND TURN THEM INTO BAD PEOPLE
I have old as well as Old World parents. Nothing was allowed. My sister doesn’t recall me crying as a child. Ever. That’s freakishly weird. As kids we were not allowed to run around indoors, expected to stay quiet, expected to sit through “boring” adult things without comment. I do not recall ever eating candy as a kid. My parents never left me home alone until I was 18. Now, I don’t totally agree with this parenting strategy AT ALL, but when you see some kids now, running around restaurants, knocking into people, and destroying things, it makes my childhood seem a bit more romantic, especially when their parents laugh instead of apologize. It seems like now it is totally acceptable for people’s children to 1. be taken to completely non-appropriate things and 2. be very disturbing to everyone else around without reproach. While I understand a baby crying in church, I don’t get kids racing up and down the aisles. While I get kids at the Denny’s, I don’t so much at the Morton’s Steakhouse. Sure, crying is acceptable at the Disney movie, but not at the foreign documentary. As a friend pointed out the other day “I would pay extra to go to the museum if there was a day I could go without children.”
Now, I am sure someone will not like this. However, I agreed with almost everything in this book. Sadly, the audience for this book SHOULD be new parents to see if they are raising horrible terrors. Somehow I think the people who raise annoying kids and force them at you all the time are exactly the people who won’t read this book.
As my sister puts it “Some kids, like some adults, are just assholes.” Yet that is not acceptable to say in this culture, and I think that’s crazy. As a kid I knew which other kids were assholes, but now for some reason I have to pretend I do not. While I admit I have no idea how hard it is to raise children and get them to behave, I also feel like sacrifices parents in older generations made (i.e. let’s NOT go out to eat if we can’t find someone to take care of our kid who freaks out at restaurants), are just being ignored. Of course, the burden is now placed on the rest of society. If you don’t believe me, just read the Amazon comments on this book. This one really summed up who the book was for, and the blasphemous opinion I hold:
“I don’t want kids. But when I tell other people that, they give me looks of shock and horror. All of a sudden, I’m a potential serial killer rather than a happy woman in her 20s. This book allowed me to see that there are OTHER people out there who DON’T like kids and DON’T want kids.”