Just read a story called “Many Women Underestimate Fertility Clock’s Clang” on NPR. The gist: Because you’re 36 <bing>, you’re most likely going to be a spinster <bong>. You hit 40? Forget about it <clang-ang-ang-ang>.
So here it is: I want to have your babies. Why? Because you’re awesome. You’re smart. You have a job. You get along with your family. You drink in moderation. You’re not super-religious. You may not be an Adonis, but you exercise and try to eat healthily, and I find your unconventional visage just delightful to look at.
Most of all, I want to bear your progeny because I find you hilarious. I don’t know, something about the things you say, I just laugh and laugh, and I know that our synergy of humor is what’s going to get us through that night seven years from now when the littler kid can’t stop shitting the bed and the other, inexplicably, decides on that moment to contemplate the meaning of death. “What about Redford? Is he going to die?… Wait, what about ME? I don’t wanna die!”
Oh man. That night’s going to be so terrible. Thank god we can joke about it.
Why should you want to be my baby daddy?
In the spirit of full disclosure, it’s not quite that phenomenal without significant structural supports, but it’ll feed your spawn, and in the meantime, enjoy!
Also, I’m smart and fun. Ask my friends. Then again, if you ask anybody’s friends, they’re probably not going to say, “He’s kinda dull. And surly.” But seriously, I’m smart and fun.
So what’s my damage? Why am I 36 and never married? It might have something to do with fear. Not fear of commitment, necessarily, but fear of committing to a bad thing. Or, more, fear of committing to something that starts out good and turns bad and then just living with it because it’s easier than changing myself or my circumstances…
I guess that’s just fear of commitment, isn’t it? OK, well, I don’t have time for that crap anymore. I’ll make a pact if you will that we’ll make it good or we’ll make it done and speak fondly of each other after the fact.
(In addition, I’ll tell you, I have an ugly little habit of withdrawing when I’m stuck or scared or mad—totally unintentional, and I never even realize it’s happening until way after. But I’m working on it! And now you know about it, so when you see it, you can be like, “Hey, where you going?” And I’ll apologize and we can have make-up sex. NB: I reserve the right to pout for 2-6 hours before the make-up sex.)
Listen, I really don’t want to be a single parent. Like, not at all. But I’m just crazy enough to do it. I will fucking go to a sperm bank and read their bullshit profiles and choose some jizz that’s purportedly from Johnny Depp’s doppelgänger but probably really from a Danny DeVito look-alike, and the donor won’t even be funny like him, so I’ll have no It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia shtick to look forward to once the little bastard can talk.
Don’t make me do it.
[Ed. note: I was trying to write a new online dating profile, and this happened.]
Love this.
Good, maybe great dating profile. I’m sure it’d stand out against the other rubble. Who cares if it feels like taking a risk. It’s uniquely funny and it sets you apart as the catch you are.
I’ve got sperm, and I’m not afraid to use it. You can bank on me!
When a friend of mine came out to his mom, she said, “Not everybody gets to have a gay son.” And I’ve kind of always hoped for a gay kid so I could bust out that line.
…Though the little guy would have an equal chance of being a homo (yay!) and a runner (booooo!). I don’t know if I should take those odds.
you ARE smart and fun. and so FUCKING talented when it comes to writing this shit.
picking a donor is fun, we could make it into a doggie play date. we’ll call it Donor Dogs (DD), not to be confused with the other DD. ;-)
If funny is what you are looking for, I’m nothing if not funny. I will check with my wife if I can provide the needed DNA and get back to you.
She said no!
funny my husband won’t let me offer up his sperm…
Dang it. If it’s not the wife, it’s the husband. What’s wrong with you committed people?
I’ll keep trying.
I love this, ironically despite the whole “making babies” angle, it’s the most authentic dating profile I’ve seen in ages.
Ames you’re the best, and your current lack of baby-daddy is 100% a testament to the foolish moronitutude of men, and you have nothing to do with it. I don’t say that about most single women, but in your case it’s actually true.
Don’t forget to mention your butt. It’s def a selling point.
Oh yeah! I’ll have to insert a sentence about my child-bearing hips.
Avid,
You are awesome. I love being around you. I get all giddy when my feed reader tells me there is a new post on your blog. (This one did not disappoint.)
Making babies is all about risky behavior. The act of making a baby is jumping off a cliff, maybe regretting your actions, taking a chance.
Maybe you should post this little essay on your profile, play a little roulette…?
yes, post it, post it!