Speaking of being cavalier, I’m always saddened when I hear people talk about their plans to have children.

In fact, I’m probably saddened more by my lack of surprise than my disappointment at hearing the reasons for couples to fertilize some of their collective eggs…. which I think is sometimes a factor why these fertilized eggs sometimes grow more into fertilizer than humans beings, but I digress…

Since I’m at that age when people start to feel that “need for breed”, I have become more and more the witness to this phenomenon. Personally, I would categorize the event of becoming the provenance of procreation by placing it in the same list as being the director of the greatest movie ever made or as having my finger on the proverbial button. I mean, if you’re a willing participant and not an irresponsible asshole, you are at least one-half of the creation (or both halves, if you’re a hermaphrodite), education, influence, and owner of a human being.

So, with such an act of significance, what could be the inspiration to undergo such a potentially epic task? According to some people that I’ve met, not much. I would prefer for people to have children with the idea of being a sculptor, when your own passionate schemes and the response of the clay collaborate in order to create a great piece. But, yeah, if we’re just having kids to pass the time, fuck it… let’s have some fun!

So, instead of reproducing as a panacea for midlife crisis/boredom, I would rather…

…have children for the sake of posterity with some needed experimentation, such as…

• …have 3 children and name them 1, 2, and 4. When the children become old enough to inquire where 3 is, make a stoic face and tell them to never mention 3 ever again. Observe their reactions and record. *
• …spawn many children within an isolated location of the Northwest Territories of Canada. Have a constant supply line which brings groceries under stealth (including eggs) and a house full of rifles. When the children ask where the meat and eggs come from, explain that you hunt other people and their egg nests, since it’s normal to be a cannibal. Stage your own death, leaving them the house and the weapons. Unleash the children upon the world. See what happens.
• …bear children on a space station in orbit, letting their bodies grow and develop within 0-degree gravity. As they grow up, tell them scary stories about a monster called Gravity. Finally, when they’re around 7 or 8, take them on a trip to Earth and watch as they flail in the midst of normal gravity, screaming to them “He’s here! Gravity has come for you!” Watch as they panic, unable to move with success due to their atrophied muscles. Observe their reactions and record. *
• …have only one child. Forge his/her identity paperwork at birth (birth certificate, social security number, etc.). When the child becomes 18, vanish from the house. As the child goes out into the world and realizes all of the identity paperwork is forged, mail a letter to the child which explains that a nomadic tribe had left it behind long ago, along with a map of the supposed nomadic tribe’s path of migration across the globe. Follow the child and observe.
• …raise children in a normal household, teaching them the opposite use of most modern conveniences. Teach them to take a bath in the sink while washing dishes in the bathtub, show them urinating out the window while leaving defecation to the toilet, sitting on birthday cakes instead of blowing out the candles, etc. When they get old enough, take them to a kids’ party at a friend’s house and observe the reaction of people nearby.
• …breed one son. When the child is young, implant a small speaker device within the child’s ear canal. As the child grows older, speak through a microphone to the small speaker, convincing the child that your voice is actually the voice of the Norse god Thor. Instruct him that he can only get to Valhalla and retrieve his sweet golden hammer when he accumulates enough points. Points can only be retrieved by smashing living creatures with shells. Take him to a beach or a zoo. Record results.
• …adopt a child with the utmost secrecy and dress him/her with metallic parts from a scrap yard, playing the “robot game” over the next several years. Eventually, when the kid is old enough, you can claim to have invented the first sentient robot, and Honda will be knocking on your door.
• …create my very own Children of The Corn by attending an annual family event and hanging out at the kids’ table, helping them plot a bloody coup because “Hannah Montana and Spongebob Squarepants would want it that way”.
• …pop out a kid in order create the first hat “food holder”, training the baby to lay atop my head and feed me whatever I wish on command. “Nacho! Now!” (Monkeys just don’t do the trick. Too often do they mistake “taco” for “nacho”.)
• …assemble some preteens in order to create my very own R-rated ” 21 Jump Street ” crew, who will infiltrate and disrupt Pentecostal summer camps for young children by distributing porn and telling off-color jokes (like “Jesus also created milk from his own semen. Guess where chocolate milk comes from?”).
• ….training my toddler in order to finally create my own version of the creature from the Basketcase movie. However, the toddler won’t be in costume since the cuteness (in contrast with the violent acts) creates an even more disturbing picture.
• …raise my child with the draconian policy that their feet can only touch furniture or rugs, so that they will train early and definitely win the gold for the “Avoiding the Lava” event at the Olympic Games of 2028.
• …finally make Conan a reality by raising my first-born son to push/pull the vacuum cleaner across the room (for muscle development) and only allow him to eat if he defeats Petey the Teddy Bear in a pillow-surrounded death pit.

* Thanks for those, Nick. I still haven’t forgotten them.