Let me make this perfectly clear: my son is not your investment. He is not an investment. He is a human being.
You didn’t drive my wife to the hospital while she was screaming about not wanting to have her baby in the car. You weren’t there when she was pushing out all the filth and then pushing him out without any medication to alleviate the pain.
You aren’t there when we feed him. You aren’t there when we change his diaper. You aren’t there when he smiles at us for no reason other than he is just happy to be there.
You aren’t there when he is in pain and cannot help himself. You aren’t there in the dead of night to fix him a bottle or to soothe him back to sleep.
You don’t sing to him. You don’t dance for him. You don’t talk to him.
No, to you he is only an “investment” in your pathetic Utopian ideals. The kind that always lead to killing fields, mass graves, and crimes against humanity. Of course, you have break a few eggs to make an omelet, right?
If you or any of your kind come near my child, violence will ensue. You can count on it.