I’ve always been fascinated by people who’ve made it their mission in life to churn out kids at the same rate the folks behind the Now That’s What I Call Music! series pumped out compilation albums in the 1990s and I’ve devoted more hours of my life watching reality television shows that document the trials and tribulations of raising a gradually increasing double-digit number of children under the same roof than I care to admit.
The Duggars and their ilk would have you believe they love all of their children the same, and while I admit I can’t speak from experience (and likely will never be able to unless something in my life goes horribly, horribly wrong), I’m calling bullshit. I’m not saying it’s impossible for a parent to adore their kids equally, but when you have enough of them to field a starting nine in addition to a reliever and a backup catcher you can throw in the bullpen, there’s no chance they’re all receiving the exact same amount of affection.
Sure, I could be wrong, and again, I can’t speak as a parent because I’ve done everything in my power to avoid becoming one, which is due to the fact that I already have enough shit to deal with and am in no hurry to add “a human life” to my continually updated list of things to worry about.