I don't want children.
I want to be able to go to University, or the pub, or invite people home to my clean and tidy house, and have the music playing way up loud.
I don't want children.
I don't want to help with canteen once a month, or have parent-teacher interviews, or worry about head-lice.
I don't want children.
I don't want to have to be polite to my ex week after week, when all I really want is for him to have a Very Bad Thing happen to him.
I don't want children.
I want to be young again, and unencumbered, and free.
And me.
I don't want children.
Of course, there's something very nice about being suddenly cuddled in the middle of a dreary afternoon.
I don't want children.
Although, I did feel very proud when my son topped the state in the English competition.
I don't want children.
And there's the fact that my daughter is beautiful, and sometimes looking at her makes tears come to my eyes.
But I don't want children.
But I do want to be needed... and gods know, they need me.
I don't want children.
But then where would I get all my macaroni jewellery?
No. I don't want children...
And what would I have to whinge about?
I'm sure I don't want...
Oh bother.
It seems I do.