Dating men with kids is something I avoid. It’s not that I dislike kids, quite the opposite really. If the kid is clean I get attached relatively easily. Unless, of course, the kid wets the bed. I hate the smell of kid piss almost as much as cat piss.
Ew times ew.
Years ago I dated a man with two daughters and it almost killed me to walk away from them, but I had to. Their dad was a total douche. Somewhere out there, there’s still a pet goldfish in a freezer waiting for me to sew a burial dress, and I don’t even sew. I’m a horrible person, certainly, but at least I didn’t freeze a dead goldfish. Seriously… WHAT. A. DOUCHE.
After that relationship I swore off men with kids. It’s just too hard. I stuck by that rule until recently.
I’m 34-years-old and I live in Utah. It’s next to impossible to find someone without kids. In fact I think I’m the only person in the entire state that doesn’t have children. So I finally gave up and accepted the possibility of dating a family. GOD that sounds sooooo “Big Love.” For the record I am not into polygamy. Yet.
And then it happened.
I met someone great, and he has two medium sized girls. Shut-up, I’m not good with ages.
Or follow through, apparently.
I found this waiting for me at his house after I met the girls briefly:
One issue… see that little part where it says to write back? I saw it. And then promptly forgot to write back. I’ve only just met them and I’m already failing. Maybe I should have a rule that I only date men who have pugs. That’s where I would shine.