By Babatomiwa Seriki
Questions: Do I want to bring a poor soul to this “new world” turned plastic? Male or female as we categorize
Female: Do I want to teach her not to have the luxury of seeing things beyond black or white? Would she grow up with the perception of the prevailing jargon, “yolo”? Or make her role model some real-life repulsive twerp; forgive my prejudice but I think life has proven its relevance beyond: Botox, facial uplifts and bodily augmentations. And let’s give an unfit credit to the media for planting ulterior notions into the young minds.
Will she develop to realize that posting nudes or cleavage, would get her a multitude of followers on social media?
I pay tribute to the hard workers out there making a living laying on their backs literally – “Runs girls” they call them, may your hustle never fail you.
And the so called “relationships” they keep these days; a wherewithal to clutch an advantage over the female number, I heard all you need do is have a little bunch in your pocket, not so bad looks and mouth lined with deception and she’s all yours, well, give or take one or two qualities.
Do I want to fret every guy that comes looking for her? Perhaps, stand guard with a rifle? Or threaten them a short-lived life if they come back knocking? Then again, it might turn out to be a war of folly for me, in the process, holding her back from making mistakes and learning the fundamentals of life.
In man’s fervent inquest for sociability, he has undoubtedly falsified a registered age range for every purpose in life: She’s not married at 27? She needs prayers. Her mates have progeny and she hasn’t conceived yet, they say, “She certainly had an abortion as a lady”.
We follow spurious strings of unsuitable “guidelines” that satisfy others’ selfish perspective to life while we drown in deep thoughts of the sad reality we choose to follow. What if she doesn’t realize these facts?
Do I want to be an over controlling dad? Deprive her of exploring the vast opportunities that surround her? Would I seek atonement for every heartbreak she experiences? The doubts and cloudy question marks are unending.
Male: I mean, there comes a point in his life when he realizes more of what his “schwanz” is capable of conferring other than the frequent drizzling off of urine. What do I do then? Tell him our family is quite different from other species and we don’t get to use ours for any other purposes except to excrete liquid waste?
Humor aside, what if he grows up to actualize his desires for the new menace that plagues our society; love for same gender (no affront fore minded, just a means to voice an apparent discontent). Tell me, what do I make of that?
Strange things happening here and there and we expect our kids to apprehend right from wrong? I might sound a little unorthodox but Last time I checked, life didn’t come with a manual. Maybe we are their manual, but are we even done comprehending the true meaning of our existence? Let alone put a naive soul through?
To me, It appears to be an act to treat with obvious disdain when it comes to the topic of “working guys,” they sit around all day in their little confinement; locked on to their various laptops, claiming “hustle,” but what can I say, God sees your struggle. *sips coffee*
It’s just a matter of time before he realizes “dad’s money can’t see me through…” and it only takes grace, for him to look to the brighter half, but what if he doesn’t?
I envy parents that might have had their kids stumble into their room whilst in the middle of a “Hollywood epic scene”. How do they explain to them? “Oh! Junior, mum and I are in the middle of a workout… “I will rather let it slide.
Do I tell him not to trust girls? Do I give him a vague definition of the significant other? Tell him to like the brain and not the looks? What if he ends up with a falsified understanding of the basic rules?
And sadly, Ladies have so much intimidated guys with their so-called “criteria”, with the hopes of getting the “Mr. Right ” that fits into this “21st century deception”: he must be 6foot tall (you don’t even know your height) He must have 6pacs( for crying out loud, it’s not even an organ of the body that satisfies any purpose ) He must be “okay,” ( well I don’t oppose them on that anyway, I once saw a lady wipe her heartbreak tears with currency notes, “it’s better than handkerchief,” she said).
What if he doesn’t see through these blurs? Would he steal from me to satisfy his ladies’ needs? Well that’s a question of if he’s truly my son or not.
Do I really want to put up with all these? Am i willing? Will i be up for the task? These questions i keep asking myself, yet I think again, wouldn’t it be nice hearing a 3rd, 4th, maybe 5th sound in your home, that’s not yours nor your wife’s; but that of a walking identical DNA?
It’s worth the wait and surely deserves a try! Maybe I’m not so much of a pessimist after all.
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