Today I have been peed on. Diarrhea'd on. Sneezed on. Screamed at. Kicked. Scratched. And drooled on.

Also, the diarrhea was green with chunks of completely undigested food. Basically, like, butt vomit.

I got butt vomited on.

I'm really glad I can hand this Exorcism of Emily Rose back to her parents at the end of today. And I'm really glad that I don't ever want kids. I mean, ever. It's getting more and more serious about not ever wanting kids. Which works out because I'm probably barren. Barren Karin.

No offensies to any parents out there, but why? How is this at all worth it? The only fun part of having kids is going to be their 21st birthday (and let's face it, for my kids, it would be, like, their 16th birthday) where you can just drink together and wake up and act awkward until someone changes the subject. That's the only fun part of having kids. Ask my dad. All I ever did was shit on him (literally &/or figuratively) until I was old enough to drink. I remember him cleaning up my vomit when I was 13. I barfed all over the carpet. Because that's what kids do. He cleaned it.

Not worth it.