Ahh, the “polite” way of telling me to STFU.
Just be glad you weren’t around for the comments I publicized earlier that day. The ones where I stated that it takes a special kind of narcissist to produce a mini-me via IVF, when there are more than enough children desperate for a home as it is. That if you try and try and it’s not taking, that’s a sign that your equipment is busted and perhaps the world is better off without you propagating your faulty genes. That it’s clearly not about the well-being of your children that are stuck with said faulty genes, but that it’s about you getting your own way and being unwilling to love DNA other than your own.
Frankly I don’t see how my family member being naive, selfish and rabid has anything to do with your friend that I don’t even know. Except for, since the friend falls into the aforementioned special kind of narcissist category, I suppose pretty much EVERYTHING must be about her. But I get it, I’m still your friend and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so I didn’t choose to educate you on something “you wouldn’t know anything about.” After all, heaven forbid we educate ourselves and get to know about things (particularly how to read cursive, which was still being taught when we were in school).
But don’t worry, I’ll be writing my name in extra-big block letters in Sharpie on your next card.
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