I Bought My Kid A Lot of Things & She Died
I recently read an article called “I’ve Only Bought My Kid Two Things & He’s Ok” or some bullshit like that. The title is some sanctimommy click-bait that I only imagine trendy crunchy moms read as they masturbate furiously with their free-range sustainable dildos. The article details how this woman managed to finagle free baby stuff from her friends, all while patting herself on the back on saving herself from the dredges of limitless consumerism.
When it comes to buying your kids stuff, let me make this abundantly clear. It’s your own fucking business. No one should care what you do with your money. It’s not like you are swinging dope on the side of the road to 12-year-olds. If I want to spend $100 on a diaper genie that I use exactly four times, I should be able to because this is America, goddammit.
My daughter Charlie was a spoiled girl. She wasn’t a brat, but man, I bought her everything I wanted to. You know what? We had a fucking BLAST. She died a month ago and I am happy I was able to give her the childhood I wanted to, even for just a short three years.
Moral of the story is: stay out of people’s business and raise your kids how you want. Normal people don’t care about what other people do with their kids.