An excerpt of this column originally appeared as a special to the Kenosha News, Sunday Mornings With Basil Willis, March 11, 2012.
Whatever gene it is that drives people to reproduce is completely missing from me. Not the process that leads to it, mind you, but actually wanting offspring. I don’t get it.
I am the guy who, when handed a baby, holds it awkwardly at arms’ length like spent nuclear fuel. The sounds of children are nails on a chalkboard. I would rather get a colonoscopy than go to Chuck E Cheese. As horrible as it sounds, I am immune to Anne Geddes photos.
I know. I’m a monster.