THERE is a game some friends and I play. Every time we see a baby bawling in public or we spy a kid misbehaving, we roll our eyes and say: Reason 1,654 (or some other number) not to have children.
We're way over the 1,000 reason mark as you can see and more get added practically every day.
It's so easy to find reasons. A month ago over lunch, the conversation turned to the Cultural Revolution in China and how children denounced their parents. Before I could stop myself, I said it: 'Reason 1,550 not to have children.'
One day soon, if we're not careful, we're going to be declared enemies of the state.
After all, we're in a country that is not reproducing itself too well and has to import foreign talent. People like me should be thrown in jail for not contributing to the national babymaking effort.
Some people though, are not meant to be parents.
I've never wanted to have children and am frankly quite relieved that I'm too old to have them now.
Among my friends are several who were born to have kids. I see them relate to their little ones and admire them very much.
But I only just tolerate kids. I cannot explain why. They have not done anything nasty to me, unless you count the time a baby projectile-vomitted in my car.
Everybody loves babies, people keep telling me. What's wrong with you, a colleague asked plaintively. Weren't you a kid once?
Yes, and thank goodness I'm not one now.
I hate it when, in a restaurant, a child starts crying loudly or runs around. It makes me want to run screaming from the place.
Certainly I felt that way last week, when a friend and I turned up at a restaurant you wouldn't think was kid-friendly and found it had been booked out for a child's birthday party.
Sometimes, I get startled - and annoyed - when fierce-looking parents cut into my path, using prams as battering rams. Hello? Why does a pram give anyone the right of way?
Several times, I've seen children behave atrociously towards their maids and want to slap them, although I suspect the problem lies not with them but with their parents.
But, and you know the but was coming, the things you fear or hate most always find a way to haunt you.
And for the last four months or so, I've been haunted by the toddler who lives next door.
Truth be told, he wasn't really in my radar. I vaguely remember seeing him when he was a blob, features not yet distinct. I also cooed at him once or twice in the interest of neighbourly relations, when I saw him in his great-grandmother's arms.
But four months ago, he started waylaying me every time I stood at my front door, fiddling with my keys to get in.
'Jie jie,' he would say, calling me 'sister' in Mandarin. 'Jie jie.'
The first few times it happened, I freaked out. I contemplated watering my plants at 4am. But then something about his smiley face made me answer back.
Since then, he has been charming me with all his little toddler antics. Sometimes, he rattles the metal gate with his little fists to try and get out when he sees me. I've been trying to get footage of this on my mobile phone but the corridor lighting is really bad. He's such a hoot.
The kid also does weird dances and shows off his vocabulary. His favourite English phrase these days is 'See you'. He toddles less these days and is starting to be more co-ordinated.
I've seen him at his worst though, bawling his eyes out, refusing to eat. But he's usually curious enough, watching me water the plants, to stop crying. Weird but true.
Surely this child senses the anti-children vibe emanating from me? Or perhaps he just chooses to ignore it.
Whatever it is, I've come to appreciate these little encounters when I come home from work.
I don't know if this is one of those bouts of temporary insanity, like the one I suffered last year when I thought I liked cats. But it made me brave enough to have lunch with my friend and her son recently.
In fact, when she asked if he could come along, I didn't hesitate before saying yes.
It turned out to be fun, especially since this seven-year-old is a budding gourmet who's willing and eager to try everything. I mean, we fed him snails. And he ate one. He recently tried grilled eel and liked it.
And he asked some insightful questions, too: 'Why do people say everything tastes like chicken?'
So maybe, just maybe, I can learn to appreciate kids.
