Having two boys, I always get the same unsolicited remarks. There are two variations. The first one is the very obvious and absolutely annoying: you should have a girl. If you would be so kind as to gain 50 pounds , waddle like a penguin, get stitches in your vagina, sleep no more than 4 hours for half a year (at least half a year!), grow milk-leaking porn boobs, toilet train her, pay for her tuition, designer jeans and wedding for me, I would gladly have a girl to please you and my husband.
If I don't get that then I invariably get: WOW! it must be a riot at your house. A riot is putting things mildly. Testosterone is a powerful and dangerous thing that makes boys and men of all ages think that farting in someone's face is the funniest thing ever. Their idea of fun is running, pushing, wrestling, sword fights, jumping and riding on each others' backs. Fun. Fun. Fun. I've sent a home video of the earthlings at play to the anti RH Bill bishops and they've decided to show it at family planning classes.
Truth is these unwanted comments don't faze me, they just make me snicker. And not because I laugh in the face of danger. Not me, I'm all bark and no bite. Looking into the future is what satisfies me with karmic glee. You see in a decade my wild boys and your tame little girls will be TEENAGERS. Now if your teenage girls will be anything like me and my friends were, you'll be in for one hell of a ride. Goodbye sugar and spice and everything nice. Bid farewell to your pink tutu-ed, sweet, little girls and hello to your updated, boy crazed, tampon wearing, c-cup 15-year-old young woman.
Who's sorry now?