Seriously, Michelle Duggar.
I woke up this morning feeling determined and ready to accomplish something, ready to pop out a new blog post. The “Today Show” would probably call, so rare have they been lately. The world two people who read this blog would be so happy.
Then, you totally steal the headines by announcing you’re popping out a new kid. Duggar number 19 is preparing to shoot forth from your loins and join the ranks of tater-tot-casserole-eating, tour-bus-riding kids with names starting with J. I have a suggestion for this one, by the way. JustStop.
Of course, you won’t see my brilliant suggestion because clearly, you don’t read this blog. Since I have already offered some sage advice on this topic.
Nonetheless, I wish you and the next Duggar well. I wish you’d stop having kids and start using some of your obviously amazing budgeting and organizational skills to mentor young mothers. But you know, I’m sitting on my ass making jokes about tater tot casserole, so I don’t really have the credibility to judge.
Not that that’s ever stopped me.
Just do not invite me to the baby shower. You have turned fertility into enough of a money-making enterprise that I am absolutely not ponying up for another onesie, and I am not playing that idiotic “name the candy bar in the diaper” game again. I don’t care how much Joshua, Jana, John-David, Jill, Jessa, Jinger, Joseph, Josiah, Joy-Anna, Jedidiah, Jeremiah, Jason, James, Justin, Jackson, Johannah, Jennifer and Jordyn-Grace beg.