My German Wife Reveals Her Maternal Intentions with a Single, Horrifying Question

demon-baby-goblin-monster-funny-sculpture
“Oh look, he’s got your mother’s tail…” — Photo Credit: Bernt Rostad (https://www.flickr.com/photos/brostad/) — Image cropped from original and blurred — Subject to copyright (CC Attribution 2.0 Generic)

My wife and I are part of that stubborn group of married people who ask not when, but if we will have a baby. We’re very focused on our careers at present, and yet, most of our friends already have kids — or plan on having them just as soon as their swollen genitals will allow. Naturally, this generates a great many conversations about the subject (babies, not genitals), all of which end with my wife or I mocking children, their parents, or the baby-making industry as a whole.

Now, at this point, I need to remind you I am a graphic designer and I work from home. For me, this means two things: 1.) I don’t give a shit about kids, and 2.) I sit in my tiny office in front of my computer all day long, wearing my favorite black Electric Six sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over my head. Keep in mind, wearing a hoodie for 8 hours straight will trap the body heat against your ears and turns them bright red. Like, dog penis red.

So, back in April of 2013, my wife and I were in the bathroom brushing our teeth before bed — probably discussing the latest birth among our circle of friends — when we started joking around about the half-breed German-American monstrosity we would produce if we ever decided to have a child of our own. (I think it would have claws like a gremlin and speak in Denglish riddles. My wife simply thinks it would be an amalgamation of all our least desirable genetic traits.) I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt back to spit a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink and revealed my freakishly red ears throbbing beneath the harsh overhead light. That’s when my wife laughed and pinched one of them, asking:

“When we have a little goblin baby, can we eat the ears first?”

If you would like to read another post about my wife’s unique attitude toward having kids, check this one out: My German Wife Shops for American Baby Gifts

 


 

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11 thoughts

  1. I have two little denglish bratettes who love to mangle my mother tongue. Apparently their deutsche is not perfect either but that’s not my responsibility.

    We have not eaten them yet, but winter is begining to bite and we might need them to keep us warm.

    But seriously, I say go for it. Sure it can be hard but it’s also great. Don’t worry about having mongrel kids; most germs we meet that find out we are raising them bilingually in english and german say it’s a great thing to do, and they wish they had had the opportunity. Bilingual turkish/deutsche might not be thought of so highly, unfortunately.

    B

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  2. If you want kids, have them – but if you are not decided, don’t – because you will need a lot of strength and dedication just to survive the first two years … I read a blogpost of a woman once, who wants no kids – and had some friends with kids who were honest enough to admit how much they suffered during these years – it read like HELL squared.

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  3. My wife is Ukrainian (that’d be a blog!) and raises our child in Ukrainian, I’m from California but grew up in Florida, so I have a surfer’s drawl. We live in Munich. Our daughter chirps mostly in German (figures), so I’ve had to improve my German to keep up.

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  4. Umm, I didn’t realise there was a whole baby making industry?!

    Anyway, the whole if/when malarkey continues to confuse me as well. I just hope that our Denglish little monsters will get the hang of it eventually. At the moment, like bobd’s, they are happily butchering both languages a little. If (!) I had the time I could write a blog about this!

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  5. I see nothing abnormal with this line of questioning. Heck, my husband and I have similar romantic conversations while teeth brushing. As in… *brush, brush, brush* “If I was going to kill you, I might shave off all your body hair and stuff a pillow with it first, just to have a memento. Or I could just sweep our bathroom floor, which has about the same amount of hair…” *brush, brush, brush*

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