Thinking About: Parenthood

There’s a good chance that I will never be a parent. Although I still think of myself as fairly young in the scheme of things I know that I’m not. Of course advanced age is no great barrier to becoming a father – especially in these days of pharmacological assistance – though I can’t help but question the wisdom of bringing a child into the world that you are unlikely to see into maturity. Then there is the ethical issue of bringing another mouth to feed to an already overcrowded and hungry world. I struggle with those who insist on producing child after child knowing that the quality of each successive child’s life will be lower than those that went before.

Of course the biggest stumbling block to me actually fathering any children is the lack of a partner. I have never exactly been successful with women and doubt if that’s going to change anytime soon. In some ways it would have been nice to have a few little Cyberkitten’s scampering around the house but in other ways I’m glad that fate had other things in mind for me. After all I have money in the bank and the ability to spend it on whatever I wish without the nagging voice (probably of my partner) telling me that food on the table and shoes on their feet is more important that a new 40” TV or the latest X-Box game. So being both single and childless does have some advantages.

But I do like kids – generally – and for some unfathomable reason most of them seem to like me. Probably it’s because I never really grew up together with the fact that I tend to treat everyone the same no matter what their age. Most of them I’m sure just think I’m weird but in an amusing ‘crazy uncle’ sort of way. It does amuse me when I get them to question their concept of adults. You can see them trying to fit me into their worldview and, often, failing. Maybe that’s why kids like me and women don’t? I’m difficult to pigeonhole. Well, it’s a good a theory as I can think of right now.

Luckily for me – in a strange sort of way – at least my genetic inheritance won’t die with me (and my brother who is as far as I know also childless) as my sister has managed to produce five healthy apparently normal children. As we’re both from the same side of the gene-pool her children will be carrying a fair few of my genes too. So all is not lost. It would still have been nice to have one of my own though or maybe two. Sometimes I think I would’ve been a good Dad but at other times I wonder just how much psychological damage I could have caused before they managed to escape the family home. Most of the people I know are examples of the walking wounded where families are concerned. I think I probably know no more than a handful of people who have described their upbringing as happy so maybe its best that I don’t add my fumbling attempts at parenting to the mix. I guess that I’ll just stay in my role of the weird uncle who swings by once a year distributing gifts. It’s probably safer for everyone that way [grin].