I can’t help but to think about all the little girls who had a baby doll. That baby doll was their first introduction to what motherhood could be, and before we even knew about trojans or storks we had our baby doll that cooed, pooped and tinkled it’s way into our hearts. We could never know that from then on we would subconsciously yearn for a real version of what we held so dear.
What if we had a doll husband or perhaps a small story book that assured us that in order to get that pretty baby we would have to go through some man, this man didn’t even have to be handsome or prince charming or even financially fit to provide for said baby, yet and still he or she would still arrive promptly 9 months later.
As we got older our mothers’ or prominent female figures assured us about the difficulties that came along with motherhood; which in a perfect world followed a marriage to the father of the child, and tried their best to shun the whole experience or attack it like a wild beast in heat. They urged us to keep our pocketbooks zipped tightly and abstain from the trappings of life as LONG as possible, until we were ready to tackle the monstrocity problems that come along with life with babies and their fathers’.
I was once a dreamer, I genuinely felt that just because i considered myself precious and special, that a man could see me more than just a conquest. I’m hopeful, but only in the way the way astronomers feel when they catch Haley’s comet in the darkness of the night sky. I know that it takes a REAL man to understand the joy and pure happiness that is fathering a child, yet unfortunately the men in our world have been catapulted with media’s mushroom cloud of sex and power. Leaving them paralyzed like Superman to Kryptonite when it comes to the booty. And although this reality is not COMPLETELY pervasive to ALL men in our world, the reality is significant enough to make us stop and think the very same thing all our lives. “Hey Disney, I never got my Prince Charming”!!