Early twenties hitting hard

He’s been sending me all the wrong signs from up there recently.

When: approximately seven days ago. Where: A subway station in Toronto. I was humming (my usual morning tune) my way up the escalator when I came across this young lady with a stroller. As I was waiting for the train, the occupant – a toddler, obviously – made my day with a warm smile. Being the kid-lover that I am, I smiled back, and was tempted to play with her, but the train arrived and we parted.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about that smile. She was so damn cute - like a furry little kitten or something. Ok maybe not a kitten (I don’t really like ‘em that much) – but you get the picture.

Approximately three minutes later, I came across another kid reaching out in the hope that I’d take him up in my arms, and about eight hours later another one that was screaming his heart out at me in enthusiasm, not realizing that no matter how much he did that, he wouldn’t be able to get the message through unless he picked up a few real words from the older kid standing next to him.

Not that this doesn’t happen a lot; I mean I know I’m popular with kids, but a 100% hit ratio accompanied by unbounded enthusiasm? That too thrice in the space of a third of a day? Now that’s awesome, isn’t it?

I wouldn’t have complained had that been it, but my dreams over the past week or so have also been dominated by kids. I have done everything starting from saving a baby’s life (superman is what they called me) to watching one grow up in front of my eyes during my eight-hour resting periods over the last couple of days.

See, I don’t believe in signs. Well at least I didn’t. Maybe signs exist only when you want them to; and perhaps their meanings depend a lot on how the individual interprets them. But when a random forty-year-old woman on the subway says she reckons I’d make a good daddy, if that’s not a sign then I don’t know what is.

Ok. Maybe she was just trying to hit on me; or maybe she said that because her child seemed to like me a lot. I mean I don’t know. I misinterpret women all the time – including my mom. Maybe there is no sign. Maybe things are like they always have been. Maybe it’s just that I want a kid so badly that I’m blaming it all on Him.

Yeah that’s right – I want a kid. I love kids. I get all corny when it comes to kids.

I remember telling a friend about how I wanted a cute little baby girl over dinner one night. He threw weird looks at me; obviously that didn’t mean much since he’s mentality is of a screwed up nature, and his thoughts are usually X-rated. The point is, I’ve wanted a kid for a long time now. Now more than ever.

However, I can’t have one. If you’re thinking it’s because I’m still too young and still in school and all that crap, let me rephrase: I can’t have one…EVER! See I’m going through this early-twenties crisis where the words “responsibility”, “marriage” and “kids” are freaking me out. I woke up one morning around two weeks ago and realized that I’d never be ready for any of those. I mean think about it. Spending the rest of my life with the same person? No privacy, no say in family matters, no control over the remote control? Or my wallet for that matter?

My mom says I should get married at 24. I told her I couldn’t. She said she’d give me a three-year extension if needed. I told her I couldn’t. She gave up.

Well maybe it’ll all work out. Maybe I’ll be ready in a few years or a decade or so; but until then - please God my good man - don’t send down those eerie hints.

Then again, when those innocent and yet curious eyes follow me all the way to Union station, when those toothless grins emit cute baby noises, I feel an ant-bite somewhere behind that shirt-pocket of mine. If only I didn’t have to be married or be a cofounder to have one of those.

So I’m waiting for that day when I hop on the train and see this guy wearing a sweatshirt saying “I graduated from college and adopted a kid” standing in the corner with a baby in a stroller in front of him. Yeah God, now that’s like a good buddy.