Apparently I’m not maternal.

Conversation I had with a 7-year-old:

Him (about a key on my necklace): Is that a real key?

Me: Yes. It opens a very small safe.

Him: What’s in the safe?

Me: A microchip containing government secrets. Mention it to no one, it could put your entire family in danger. You need to pretend you don’t know about it.

Him: I’m gonna tell everyone.

Me: It’s your life.

Him: Can it come off your necklace?

Me: It doesn’t come off.

Him: I’m gonna bring scissors and cut it off the next time I see you.

Me: If you do that, I’ll murder you in your sleep. I don’t love you like your parents do.

His father: You can’t hide maternal instincts like that.

Strangely, these kids actually like me. They think I’m hilarious. They and I have that in common.


The key in question.

10 thoughts on “Apparently I’m not maternal.

        • You need some sort of a social kid-barrier. How do you feel about spreading rumours that your house is haunted? Perhaps a witch once lived in your home, who sated herself on the flesh and bones of children, until the townspeople revolted and killed her. Perhaps her spirit still wanders your property, waiting for the opportunity to snatch a small child to the otherside, so she can once again feast on the flesh and bones of the young?

          Just thinking outside the box here.



          • That is a great idea. Finally a great way to keep kids away. I just hope it doesn’t backfire and I have to end up being a Ghostbuster to get the ghost off the property.


  1. Pingback: Apparently I’m not maternal, pt. 2 | Stories from the far side of normal

  2. This one time, my friends baby put my finger in his mouth and I yelled “is this what it feels like to receive a blowjob?”


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