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The only way I’ve been able to explain parenthood with more than one child is like that vaudeville act where they spin plates on top of sticks.
Only the plates are humans, and there’s legal consequences if they hit the floor and break.
Oh, and you feel guilty each time you leave one to go spin the next one that’s about to fall.
So you’re apologizing the whole time.
Oh, and you’re doing this in a sleep-deprived haze and you haven’t bathed or brushed your teeth in three days.
Oh, and everyone expects you to do this flawlessly at all times without failure or breaking a sweat.
Oh, and then one day you’ll have to pay ridiculous amounts of money to have someone else spin the plates while you go to work to earn just enough money to justify your absence.
And, they get sick like every other week and you have to use every minute of your banked vacation and sick time when they are home.
Oh, and you also feel like human garbage for doing that, so you spend all the rest of your money on nice things for the plates so they don’t resent you.
Oh, and you’ll also have to put the plates through college.
Yeah.
Parenting is so awesome.

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