My Boyfriend Says I’m Too Clingy, But I’m Just Practicing Attachment Parenting

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I’m not crazy. I studied Psychology. I’ve read Bowlby, Freud and all my boyfriend’s emails. I’ve had hundreds of lovers. I’m the hypothetical mother of many, many unfertilized babies. And I’ve seen the ill effects of bad parenting, Dad. So, I think I know a thing or two about what makes for healthy relationships. That’s why I’ve decided to use my boyfriend, Greg, as a qualitative case study for attachment parenting.

You’ll understand if you’re a mother or could potentially be one at some point, hopefully soonish. It’s like, am I the only one concerned with the longevity of our relationship? Our synchronicity? My aging ovaries? Sure, I may have come off a little strong when I forced him to move in with me after three months, but that’s the point of monotropy, otherwise known as when I locked that shit down. Literally.

You see, it’s all about understanding the developmental stages. Greg and I are just now heading into the third phase, the seven-month mark, and it’s absolutely vital we stay the course. Otherwise, he might become disoriented and forget that nobody will ever love him like I will. Ever. And by the way, I read that a lack of emotional attachment can cause horrible defects. Like, erectile dysfunction, for example. He’ll thank me later.

I know Attachment Theory says it doesn’t have to be a reciprocal dynamic to render it effective. But it would be nice if Greg could show some goddamn appreciation once in a while. I mean, I’m practically his mother anyway. Who do you think cooks, cleans, and rubs in his Chamois Butter when he’s become chafed? That’s right, me. The “overbearing girlfriend.” Why don’t you wipe that cream on your own ass-crack and then we’ll see who’s too smothering, Gregory!

But okay, fine. I’ll admit it. Maybe I do have his laptop set to Parental Controls, but it’s definitely not because I want to make sure that that slut Stacy from HR isn’t sending him any flirty Facebook messages. Not at all. He’s very advanced for his age. I trust him to make smart decisions. It’s her that I don’t trust. Am I aware that her desperation and annoyingly perfect ass might be due to some inadequacies during her 0-5 month old development? Sure. Do we maintain an open, accepting, and judgment-free household? You betcha! But as far as I’m concerned, Stacy is nothing but a bad seed and a choking hazard. No really, I will choke her.

And, yes, I may have pad-locked our front door and hidden the key inside my shoe, but maintaining close proximity at all times is the key to getting married before my sister Beth. And honestly, where’s his perspective? Time is precious, you know. I won’t be around forever. At 29-years-old, who knows how much longer I’ve got left? Maybe while he’s chained to the armchair caressing my exposed breast he can just fucking think about that.

But I feel like we’re just focusing on his limitations, instead of all his perks. I mean, come on now, do other girlfriends let their boyfriends simulate breastfeeding? Uh, I don’t think so! Do I give him plenty of time to interact with others so he’ll learn proper socialization? Absolutely! Just as long as I am close enough to observe his every move or fend off any sexual predators. That’s not domineering, that’s empirical research. Look it up.

Greg might call me obsessive, crazy, and terrifying, but that’s just because he’s entering the stage where he wants to express his independence. That’s all fine with me, because pretty soon he will see the fruits of my labor. Nine months, to be exact, since I accidentally poked holes in the condom and am now pregnant with his child. Maybe these aren’t the ideal circumstances, but at least now he’ll never, ever be able to get rid of me! Haha, just kidding. Anyhow, gotta run, time for me to stare at Greg so he doesn’t try to sleepwalk out the window again!


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