I have honestly never considered myself to have any maternal instincts. I think that all women are supposed to have them, you know, for when they decide to spawn those little creatures that everyone calls "children" (I call them "annoying little brats"). I just thought I didn't get these instincts because I have no desire to ever have kids. Ever. I can handle kids in small doses but...after more than thirty minutes, I can no longer refrain from saying "fuck". So...there ya go. Kids are not for me.
However, I noticed over the last few days that, if Spliff gets sick, I am running out to Walgreen's and CVS to get medicine and crackers and to various convenience stores in search of the elusive DIET Ginger Ale. Let me just tell you, first and foremost, NO ONE has Diet Ginger Ale. NO ONE. But I digress. Spliff has called me "mommy" at least twice in the last two days and it is disturbing. I am finding myself checking to see if she is breathing when she falls asleep because she hasn't been able to keep anything down since Saturday and I keep thinking that she will die of dehydration if I don't check on her every 15 minutes. What is happening to me? Spliffany is not my child! And while I don't want her to die in her sleep, I don't want her to call me "mommy"! Ever!
This being said, I am still not having kids. Maternal or not. I will adopt Spliff, but don't you think that I am getting all soft in my old age. I will still cut you, bitches.