Meow House Theatre

I’ve been having dreams again that I wake up and my hair is cut off.  Not that it was cut off without my knowing; no, in the dream I apparently got it cut off because I forgot that it was so long and I accidentally told them to cut it to my shoulders.  And then I forgot having done this, until I woke up in the dream and remembered that I had my hair all cut off and can’t believe what a fucking idiot I was.

I think this ties in to my repeated dreams that I have a baby except I forget that I do, and I leave him on some counter in a store or put him in the crib and forget about him, and then a few weeks later I remember “Oh yeah I remember now that I had a kid but I guess I left him somewhere”  or “Hey wasn’t I supposed to feed that kid a while back?”  And of course he’s dead by then, all shriveled up and dehydrated.  It’s pretty gross.

I am SO not mother material.

This was made painfully, literally, obvious last night when I happened to turn on the TV and catch “17 Kids And Counting”–the show about those people in Arkansas (it *would* have to be Arkansas, right?  It could ONLY be Arkansas, practically)  who have 17 children.  I think they’re up to 19 by now.  My uterus scrunched up and put the No Parking sign out front just from watching that show.  That woman has been pregnant for 20 years straight.  The thought of it is horrifying.  I’d rather go through just about anything.  Guantanamo Bay prison system, Saw II, almost anything.  At least that torture wouldn’t take as long.

They had various clips with a bunch of the kids and they all seem pretty nice and normal, at least on TV.  Not that TV is any true measure of reality.  I’ve been on TV and believe me, I didn’t act like my own self while I was there.  They are probably not really capable of subterfuge though and likely are the nice polite kids they seem to be.  They sound happy.  I am sure they are loved, even with so many.  It kind of bugged me that all the “outdoor” chores were seemingly only done by the boys.  They cut down a tree, they go to the warehouse and do repairs, and the father always says “Yep I take the boys out and we do xyz.”  Maybe good Christian girls don’t need to know how to use a hammer down South.  Washin’ dishes is a valuable skill to learn too.  **rolleyes**  Well it’s not my concern but they *do* go on TV with this stuff so I’m entitled to make my comments on it.  It’s not like they’re keeping their private life private and someone is intruding and making judgment based on what The Star posted in its annual “Best Of The Gossipy Unauthorized Trash” issue.

Anyway the wife there deserves some kind of trophy.  And definitely one of those surgeries they do nowadays to keep things tight down there.  Although she’s gonna have to wait until her baby-factory days are over.  Maybe god will get tired of giving her more children and go find some more babies to give cancer to, or some random innocent people to blow up in Iraq.  Because as they keep saying, it’s all “god’s will” that she keeps getting pregnant.  If god didn’t want her to have more children, he would make it not happen.  God controls everything.  Except the invention and availability of birth control.

My uterus is still in pain.  Damn you, god.