Copyright 2005 Singapore Press Holdings Limited
The Straits Times (Singapore)
November 20, 2005 Sunday
SECTION: Lifestyle - Others
LENGTH: 967 words
HEADLINE: Suffer the children;
It's clear now that I'll never have children and be a mother, but in any case, I've since become allergic to kids
BYLINE: Sumiko Tan
BODY:
I NEVER thought I'd say this but I've come to realise that I don't like children that much any more.
Take last Sunday.
I was out for lunch at a new restaurant in town.
It's one of those bright, minimally decorated places that are so fashionable these days.
Sunlight streamed in from the glass walls, there were flowers on the table, the dishes on the menu looked enticing and everyone around me seemed civilised.
I just didn't expect the children.
It wasn't so much the babies. There were two in the restaurant, but they were quiet, probably asleep.
Rather, it was the kids who looked to be aged five or six. Descending onto the eatery with their parents, they turned the place into a McDonald's with their loud, ceaseless chatter.
Suffice to say, the meal wasn't as pleasant as I'd hoped. In fact, I got rather annoyed.
It was the same at Great World City mall later that day. With so many families out in force, it was packed with kids.
One little boy dashed in front of me and promptly fell, nearly tripping me.
A tinier boy who was running next to him then decided that he'd rather be on the floor too, and promptly splayed himself on the ground, giggling wildly.
Don't blame me if I'd trampled on them by accident. I nearly did.
Luckily, the man who was with them - their father, I suppose - wasn't one of those parents who glare at strangers for so much as brushing against their kids.
He ordered the boys to behave, I said 'sorry' (even though I wasn't at fault) and we went our separate ways.
It's the same every which way you turn, now that the school holidays are here. Kids overrun cinemas, bookstores, restaurants, airports and airplanes, yelling, screaming, crying and throwing fits.
They talk in cinema halls when the movie is showing, they cry throughout long-haul flights, they peep under your toilet door, they interrupt conversations and their strollers take up so much space.
As a child-free person, I say: If kids persist in disturbing the public peace - not to mention leaving their sticky fingerprints everywhere or, worse, their puke and pee - why can't they just stay home?
I NEVER thought I'd harbour such unkind views about children.
For ever so long, I'd fancied myself one of those people who love kids.
Once upon a time, I wanted so much to be a mother that I thought having a child out of wedlock wasn't such a bad idea.
If I had encountered those two brats tearing around Great World City then, I probably would have said 'Oh, so cute - wish they were mine', instead of rolling my eyes.
It's not that I hate kids. I still coo at babies and want to pinch the cheeks of cute toddlers, and I enjoy the company of older children - provided they are well-behaved.
This applies to my niece, who's turning eight, and nephew, who's two.
I love them dearly, but, really, eating out at a restaurant with them is not just exhausting, but embarrassing as well.
They speak so loudly, they eat so untidily and I feel bad about the mess they leave on the table and the floor.
Whenever they throw a tantrum in public (why must it always be at the supermarket, and what's with sitting on the floor?), I must resist a desire to scold and smack them.
But I'm not their mother, and if there's any disciplining to be done, it should be by my sister. I'm not there to teach her how to be a parent.
Indeed, we child-free people know by now that nothing makes parents angrier than when we comment on the bratty behaviour of their bratty kids.
But why have my feelings towards children changed? How is it that I have gone from being broody to feeling absolutely nothing when I see a pair of tiny baby Nike shoes?
It's definitely not a case of sour grapes.
My maternal instincts have truly dried up. The thought of having a child, raising it, financing it, and having to be alive and healthy for it, has zero appeal now.
In fact, one of the nicer things about growing older is that, day by day, my child-bearing years are coming to an end. No accidents will be happening, and hand-on-heart, I can't be happier and more relieved.
Perhaps I've just grown selfish and intolerant.
As it is, child-free people already get a tough deal. We don't enjoy child subsidies and we have to sit in whenever colleagues with kids take urgent leave or go on protracted maternity leave.
If I spend three-quarters of my life working so hard, surely I should be allowed to enjoy my weekends without having my peace disturbed by kids?
Of course, children and their parents have every right to be anywhere they want to be.
But it's time the child-free have rights too.
Why should I spend good money at a restaurant and have to put up with children screaming and scampering around, ever ready to trip me and my plate of pasta?
Why can't parents train their children in proper restaurant and cinema etiquette, or desist from bringing them to such places until the kids have learnt manners?
In fact, we child-free folks do understand that children are by nature boisterous. If kids misbehave, it's their parents' fault, really, for not being able to manage them better.
And finally, why can't restaurants - even cineplexes - create family-friendly segments (or family-unfriendly, depending on which side of the fence you're on) where customers with kids can be grouped?
I've no doubt that parents, frazzled as they already are, won't be happy with these suggestions. They certainly aren't politically correct in a country that wants to raise its birth rate. But it would be nice if they could see our point of view for a change.
In any case, I'm out of here.
Tomorrow, I'm off to a holiday and will be checking into a spa in Thailand. It's a lovely resort - and it doesn't take in anyone under 16.
Bliss.
sumiko@sph.com.sg
Sumiko Tan's column will resume in January.
LOAD-DATE: November 19, 2005
I dreamt of this kid pulling my hair in the bus last night. In my dream, I could feel the tug and I said very loudly to the mother to control her kid so that all the people heard it. So when I was reading this article posted in WW's blog, it reminded me of the irritation I felt in my dream. Kids are not always a pleasant lot. When they misbehave, you really wish that there's some remote control that you can buy and stop them from talking and moving.
This article may be a little offensive to some people, especially those who have kids. It's also not in line with the government's pro-family stance.
But I think most of it is true. The sentence that set me thinking was this one: "As it is, child-free people already get a tough deal. We don't enjoy child subsidies and we have to sit in whenever colleagues with kids take urgent leave or go on protracted maternity leave."
If I were to remain single (which is highly probable), I'll have to:
1) continue giving ang-pows to those getting married and attending boring wedding dinners where people go yam-seng! like ants talking 'cos they're too bored and lazy.
2) continue supporting the government's pro-family efforts by doing what Sumiko is doing (because that is the only thing singles can do, since they are not married, have no children and therefore can afford the time and effort)
3) get used to having married people give me embarrassed and "Oh, I'm so sad for you." looks when they realize I don't have children after asking how many children I have and after that, realize to their horror that I'm not married and have no children after stupidly asking where my husband is working.
4) not care about what people think and say behind my backs when they attribute any quirks in my behaviour due to being left on the shelf.
No. No sour grapes here.
Anyway, it's going to be a crowded shelf.
