March 23, 2015
While we may take Plan B with our vitamins at breakfast, we also love talking about our future kids. Contradictory, maybe. While we’re not looking to have kids right now or really… ever in the near future… betches love casually mentioning our future kids out of context.
Talking about our future kids is no different than talking about our future house, boat, and vacation calendar. Just like we already know who our bridesmaids are, even though we have no intention of getting married yet, knowing what our children’s names, hobbies, and genders are going to be is all part of our plan.
Betches don’t sit around and talk about their futures, that’s for nice girls. Talking about stuff instead of doing stuff implies fear of the unknown. We know exactly what their future holds because we always get what they want. So when we mention the future, we’re not hypothesizing, we’re just stating facts. Therefore, it usually comes out something like this – your friend introduces you to her brother Braden and you casually say, “That’s what I’m naming my son.” Or you’re watching March Madness and you pipe up, “When my daughter cheers for USC I hope they make it into March Madness.”
Chances are you’ve already named your kids and know just how many you’re going to have. You mention this to the bro you’re dating not as a hint, but just so he’s aware. It’s not a discussion because it’s your life, not his. If they’re boys, they’re probably named something like Riley, Tucker, Troy, Hunter, Everett, or basically any first name that’s also a last name. If they’re girls, they’ve probably got a boy’s name like Jamie, Kyle, Avery, Bailey, Madison, Ryan because duh.
Your son(s) probably play sports like lacrosse, soccer, crew, or if you’re a West Coast betch, water polo. Your daughter(s) are going to do whatever the hell they want because they’re betches and you know they’ll be good at anything. She’ll pledge the sorority you were in obvi.
The idea of lugging around a ten pound crying machine that can’t fend for itself is pretty disgusting right now, but you know that one day, you’ll become the successful housewife/CEO of a Fortune 500 company you were destined to be. One day, you’ll put down the shot glasses and pick up your reading glasses to read to a mini-you. Okay, so that may not happen very soon, but you know it’s going to happen, so you accept your future kids’ success with open arms. And you're already proud of how awesome your kids are going to be that you casually mention them because why the fuck not.