Kids... They'll Wear Your Ass Down.

It seems that like most things, the novelty of owning a pet wears off once you have more than one. People have a tendency to act over the top when they experience something for the very first time. Ever notice how mothers handle their first child? As if they're made out of porcelain encased in glass and covered with cotton balls.

This same mommy will barely notice her second child hanging by her nipples as she juggles twenty errands years later.

My friend's aunt used to tell me that when she had her first child she'd go crazy following her every move, convinced her kid would drown if she looked away for a second or burn herself with the stove even if she was ten yards from it.

But by the time she had babies two and three, her patience (and energy) started wearing thin, and she left the life lessons up to fate and the gods. After all, who knew better than the gods?

 

I didn't know this back then but, apparently this doesn't only apply to human babies. My darling Beba couldn't be a better pet if God himself descended from the heavens and paid her in milk bones. Yet like everything, she wasn't perfect.

Beba never understood the concept of potty training (and still doesn't).

Everytime she'd drop a doodie I'd go through an elaborate process for picking it up and flushing it down the toilet.

Once Bruno came in the picture many years later, I decided maybe gloves were a bit of an exaggeration and like any good momma, I got practical.

But granted, practicality jumps out the window once you're burdened with the coming of yet another child. Two years later, Mikey walked into my life and I just couldn't resist keeping him.