I have wondered what legacy I will leave behind, having borne no children. There is the unsung heroism of not passing on my own unpalatable genetic soup to future generations. (Since women in my family tend to start menopause young, I see Mother Nature as a lifeguard trying to hustle us out of the pool.) But really, other than money, time to travel, intact abdominal muscles, an unscathed perineum and the same complement of stretch marks since puberty, what’s in this childless lifestyle for me?
I have found the answer! By remaining childless, I have reduced my carbon footprint to the tune of every generation of progeny who might have continued to breed until global warming requires the evolution of gills. By my reckoning, I have earned the carbon footprints of all those unborn children. This is the ultimate carbon offset—I can drive an SUV to the catalogue-choked mailbox at the end of my driveway, charter flights to fly in circles with loads of bricks just to burn fuel and roll flaming rubber tires into the rainforest without guilt. It’s a free pass!
In fact, since the only thing I will leave to posterity is my carbon footprint, I’d like to make it as large as possible. And I’d also like to offset that big dark imprint on the posterior of the next person who assumes that every woman must want to have children or that the world can be saved by wearing vegan shoes.
While we’re at it, what the heck is a “vegan shoe”? Does it not eat meat?