Before I say what I'm going to say I'll remind you this post is being written by someone who does not have a child, who has tried a very long time to have a child, who tries to stay positive and not be bitter about it most of the time. It is however, something that exists somewhere in my mind at all times. All. Times. Whether I'm actively having a sad day over it, or I'm doing okay, it's there.
This time of year is obviously a little bit more of a challenge. In case you haven't noticed, this is a pretty kid-friendly holiday. I smile through getting together with our families and being the only ones kid-less. I feel a little stupid for putting up decorations just for us and whoever happens to come over, but I do it. When we get cards with pictures of everybody's beautiful kids and I send ones of our dog with antlers on. I enjoy this time of year enough so that I'm okay with everything most of the time; I certainly don't want my bullshit to take away from seeing all the babies and kids I live to see.
Considering all that, you'll understand maybe why the following story makes me want to climb the nearest bell tower and start shooting.
Over the weekend we stopped by the redneck friends' house for a few minutes to drop off some firewood. Brian and Nick did their thing unloading the truck and standing around the burn barrel for a few minutes, while I went inside to see Sheri and the kids. Making small talk, she happened to tell me some news about a good friend of hers, someone Brian also grew up with but never liked too much. My husband has never minded a skank here and there, but this girl goes beyond that. Anyway, he only likes hot skanks. This girl is hot-opposite. She even has the perfect skank name - Crystal. Sorry if I've offended any Crystals out there - I'm sure you're enjoying great success in your stripping career.
An aside: The first time I had the pleasure of meeting Miss Crystal, rather than saying "Hi" or "Nice to meet you," she turned to Brian and said, "Is she cool?" Neither of us knew how to respond to that, so she translated. It meant did I smoke pot. I'm telling you, this one is KLASSY.
Anyskank, Sheri told me in a very concerned way Crystal had had her baby prematurely. Not having totally remembered she'd been pregnant, I feigned interest and acted appropriately concerned. She then said the baby is in the hospital still and he's doing a little better now but they were really scared for a few days and he'll still have to be there probably through Christmas. That's sad, I'll admit and at this point, I was feeling a little bad. Until what she told me next.
You have to understand one thing about Sheri - she's a very sweet girl, someone who doesn't have a bad thing to say about anyone. This is why we'll never be really close friends; I'm way too cynical for that shit. But especially since Crystal is one of her friends, she tried to say this in the most diplomatic way possible, without being harsh or blaming Crystal. Not sure why she even told me this in the first place, but whatev.
Apparently when Crystal got pregnant this time it was a surprise (even though she has three kids already - I don't know, by now you'd think she'd understand what happens when she has lots of unprotected sex?) Her husband is like eighteen years older than her, but hey - at least she's married to this one, right? Way to go, Crystal, being all old-fashioned and shit. Regardless. After learning she was pregnant, she just couldn't seem to make herself stop smoking (obviously weed, but also cigarettes), nor from enjoying the occasional beer. She also has back problems, so Sheri thought maybe she took muscle relaxers as well. I guess since she'd done that with all of her other pregnancies and those babies came out just fine, she saw no reason to change anything this time around. Completely logical; I totally see her point.
Sheri continued talking but by then I'd stopped listening and sort of unfocused my eyes. Until she told me she was on her way over to visit Crystal and the baby in the hospital and asked if I'd like to go along with her. I politely declined. I then excused myself to go outside and told Brian it was time to go home. Like, now. On the way home, he asked if something was wrong. Sometimes he's observant like that. I told him the story. He sighed and said it didn't surprise him. And then, like he's told me many many MANY times, "Please try not to be upset," grabbed my hand and held it all the way home. He was working and trying so hard to get me back into a good mood, I did what I always do and buried it. It's a friend of a friend, someone I've only met a couple of times and who has no impact on my life whatsoever.
Retards have babies every day. Bad parents are everywhere. Kids who don't deserve it get treated like shit in ways I don't ever want to think about. It doesn't matter what I want or what I think is right; it's not going to change a fucking thing. But the next time someone gives me that old stand-by cliche, my all-time favorite "Everything happens for a reason"? They might not like what I say back. I guess it'll depend on what kind of mood I'm in, whether or not I fakely agree or slap them in the mouth. We'll just have to wait and see.