Where's the Piñata?

You know what sucks balls? Being forced to attend little kid parties.
I understand, you're stoked to have babies, and yes, the anniversary of the kid's birth should be celebrated... but... forgive me if I'm not as fond of celebrating the occasion.

I'm 25, single, and childless.
I have zero interest in sitting there-- in your living room-- as I watch you hold your baby, who is probably wearing a stupid little cone on his head that he obviously hates since he keeps tugging at it like "WTF is this shit? Get it off my head or I'll scream at the top of my lungs into your ear... and his ear... and her ear... and especially her ear."

I don't care if he likes his cake. I don't really care for any type of cake... unless it's made of ice-cream... or tres leches... but babies don't usually like those flavors.

I don't care if he likes his gifts. You do know he probably prefers the gift wrap a lot better, and he is most likely going to shove it into his mouth in attempts to eat it, right? And that box the gift came in... I'll put money on the baby digging that box a lot more than that damn talking Winnie the Pooh that came in it.

Oh, what's that? No, I do appreciate the fact you'll have liquor at the party... but what good is it going to do me if everyone else who's going to be drinking is going to be sitting there complaining about things having to do with parenthood?
I can't relate to that. So, I usually end up sitting there, listening to more baby stories that I really couldn't give less of a fuck about... as I drink... drop a little bit of the drink on my clothes... and drink some more, on this fine Saturday evening.
No, I don't know the price of diapers... I don't care about the price of diapers.
Potty training convo isn't something I can contribute much to, either. I hear it sucks... and quite frankly, it's kind of nasty.
Talking about how tired you are after holding a play-date for your kid and your friends' kids? Ooooh! I think I know what you mean... is it kind of like the tired I'd get after three hours of fucking around with an IR spectrometer and being frustrated because I couldn't figure out what compound I was looking at? Like... my brain really, really hurt when I'd have to do that. Oh... I said fuck? My bad, I forgot I was in front of babies... I'll just... this martini's really good... let me go get another one... k... bye.

But I have to do it...
... because... I'm happy they're happy... ?

Yeah... this is going to be a very long day.
I should have charged my fucking phone.