Why Not Have Kids?

I remember my own childhood, not fondly, but I do remember. One phenomenon I recall distinctly was the question that children asked each other: do you have any brothers or sisters?

This was a great question. Kids who were only children were typically obnoxious. They didn't share. They were mean and rude. Kids from big families had lots of toys. Older siblings typically had cooler toys. A big brother could teach you a dirty word. An older sister might teach you how to talk to girls or what to wear. However, there were limits. If there were three children, it was great, maybe even four. Five kids, though, solicited comments like, "That's a big family."

Heck, families used to have minivans because they sat seven. In a big family, only one child would get to invite a friend on an outing.

I currently do not have any friends with more than two kids. When I meet someone who has three kids, I say, "Wow, big family." If they say four or more I ask them if they're Mormon. Did you and your wife have kids separately before you met each other?

If I meet these large families, I scan their little tow-topped faces, looking for the one who resembles the mailman.

And I'm not the only one. Everyone I know wants to ask, "Why?" when they meet someone with more than two kids. I can't answer for the puppymills, but I can explain the inquisitors. We understand that everyone makes a mistake: that's why you have kid. We even understand that you didn't want to talk to it, so you made it a little friend. However, you can't keep making the same mistake and expect us to be understanding. We have our limits.