When I was a much younger chick, I seriously contemplated whether or not to have my own biological children. I decided it wasn’t my thing, and I’ve never regretted my decision. Nonetheless, I ended up being a parent my whole adult life anyway.
Bow Tie o’ the Day laid out across this 8th Grade school picture helps present some of my reasoning for remaining bio-childless. I’m sure I’ve made this true joke before in a past post, and you’ll probably have to read it again in the future: If I had a bio kid it would have bad hair, bad teeth, big boobs, and be bipolar. And who wants to give their kid those blessings?
It’s a joke which drips with truth. You can’t see the bipolar in me here, but it’s already working in full force. I have no doubt that the breasticle genetics are so formidable in me that even a bio son would likely end up with a trophy rack, and that wouldn’t be pretty. My teeth only lasted about five years beyond when this photo was taken. And my hairs in this photo are a perfect example of how stubbornly straight my hairs are. I had just had a permanent which was supposed to give me a tight afro.
This is my hair. This is my hair on afro.