So, obviously from the second post of the day, you can tell I'm bored.  But, since I have written countless (OK maybe three) blogs about my boredom at work, I will not bother you with that again.  So, instead, here is a story about my nephew.  He is an interesting little boy.  He turned five Monday, and I will make his Wall-E birthday cake tonight for his party tomorrow.  Last week, he told him mom to tell me, "not to forget to make his cake."  I guess he doesn't know how bored I am.
A month or so ago, I had to pick him up from day care, and because I have no kids, and no desire to ever do so, I have forgotten how to talk to kids.  I talk to them like they are adults. Not quantum physics or anything like that, although, I did try to explain supply and demand to my handicapped sister, but I think she followed...
Anyway, nephew.  He is in the back seat, and the only thing I can think to talk about is the new house, so I say, "Guess what?  Uncle Will and I are going to move!"  Which is kind of a tragic thing to tell to a kid who lives down the street from you.
"Why?" he wants to know.  
"Well," I begin, wanting to say that the neighborhood wasn't doing as well as we thought, and we want to get out before the value of our house drops, but that's over his head, and well, he still lives in that neighborhood. "Uncle Will and I want more space."
"Oh, why do you need more space?"
"We just do.  And we want a pool table." I reply, thinking thats a good enough explanation for a four year old.
He sits there thinking about it for a while, and finally asks, "Are you going to take your refrigerator?"
"No, actually, we aren't.  We want a better one, so we are leaving it."
Again, a reasonable answer.  He pauses again.  "Are you going to take the gummy worms?"
Huh?  So, we had gummy worms the last time he was over, like three weeks ago.  "Um, I think Uncle Will ate all of those."  I glance in my rearview to see his reaction.
He took his tiny chin and cupped it in his hand and said, "Oh.  I'm disappointed."
I went and bought him gummy worms that night.  But I was overwhelmed with the fact that a four year old knows what disappointment is, and that he was able to use the word correctly.  And I was sad that he was disappointed.  And that in some small way, I had something to do with it. 
And that is reason #274,569 why I never want a child.  I can't bear the disappointment that life will ultimately be.  

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