Some new academic research into parenthood has caused quite a stir, by revealing that having children doesn’t make you happier. Some were outraged by it, others vindicated, debate ensued about whether it’s even children’s job to make their mums and dads happy, or the other way round. And in the cacophony of opinion, something got lost. Happier, schmappier: what the study failed to mention is that having kids turns you into a boring loser. I know, because I am one.
Your chat withers and dries up the second your baby is born. First you’re dull about sleep and feeding schedules, earnestly answering polite, cursory inquiries with long, detailed information, in a manner as welcome as replying to “How are you?” by actually saying how you are. Then, as your child grows up, you mistakenly assume the rest of the world shares your fascination with their every move, achievement and allegedly hilarious outburst. You suffer a kind of conversation blindness, no longer noticing eyes glazing over, incapable of reading the room.
