Lately (and perhaps it’s because I’ve turned 22 but), there’s a running theme in the questions I’ve received.

Rebekah, do you want kids?

I do—eventually—want kids. Little Tommy, Chuckie, Phil, and Lil… But the weird thing is: I’ve been working on this blog post. And it’s as if they knew. They sensed it. They looked into my brown eyes and saw horror, disgust, and revulsion toward those squishy little bundles of joy (referring to the child,*ahem*, not its diaper).

Anyways. Here’s 10 reasons why I won’t hold a baby.

1. I might drop it.

This is the most obvious response when someone won’t hold a baby. No, no… I’m afraid I might drop him.

The other day, I threw my phone—accidentally. Not, I accidentally dropped it. Dropping it requires a lack of action. Throwing it required a LOT of action and I did it—accidentally.

Whoops.

2. Baby’s are kinda heavy.

Let me ask you something. Why. Why would I voluntarily hold a ten pound weight?

I won’t be taken for a fool. Once you get that ten pound weight, you’re stuck with it as its mother gallops away, champagne in hand, giggling to her girlfriends, “single girls are so gullible.”

It’s a conspiracy I tell you.

I said all this to a girl who had just asked me, with stars in her eyes, “Rebekah, would you like to hold him? He’s so cute!” After my prompt rejection and declaration of the baby’s weight, she looked at me as if I were a horrific monster and took the child to another room.

3. Explosive diapers exist.

I’ve heard the horror stories. I believe the tales are true.

4. How the heck do you do it?

For kicks and giggles, let’s say I did agree to hold this 10 pound diaper explosion. I have no idea how to take him from you while watching his head.

WHAT THE HECK IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO HIS HEAD?

5. I might hurt it.

No, seriously.

WHAT’S GONNA HAPPEN TO HIS HEAD?

6. They fart and people blame you.

Oh sure. They’re all cute and innocent . . . until they let out a silent but deadly and everyone, including the BABY looks up at you with accusing eyes.

7. Carrot food sneezes.

I’ve only babysat twice—before swearing it off forever and ever.

The first time was with an actual baby. (Understandably, I wasn’t their first choice.) While feeding her mashed up carrot baby food, she spontaneously combusted into a sneeze that targeted my face, blouse, and jeans in a neon orange spray.

8. People might think it’s mine.

I know this is a controversial topic, but … what if it’s an ugly baby?

9. I don’t want to catch baby fever.

What if I hold it long enough and it looks up at me with those big baby eyes, and my heart melts, and all of the sudden, I see:

10. I have this… quality.

I don’t know what it is about me. And this has nothing to do with holding babies really, but I appreciate children’s cuteness from a safe distance. I’ll peekaboo and wave, smile and stick my tongue out.

For some reason, this creeps out parents SO MUCH that I’ve had several of them, on different occasions, pull their children/strollers closer to their bodies to keep their kids away from … me.

If my guy friends do it, though, it’s somehow charming and not at all weird. I give up.

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I’m sure things will be different when I have my own child. But this is where I’m at now.

Let those girls who REALLY enjoy babies coo and cuddle them. Don’t pass them off to me.

As for me and my house, pets are the children of choice.

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