Enter: The Manchild.
If you look at my life on paper, it reads something like this: '25 year old, healthy female. Independent, successful, disease and child free.' Score.
Often missed in the small print are the tragic flaws: 'Believes in the good in people, gives the benefit of the doubt, struggles to deny the mercy fuck, and will lend money to nearly anyone, even when fully aware it is going toward drugs. I can never leave a man behind, or kick someone who is down, and while that makes me an awesome teammate for capture the flag, i'm really just bending over for the manchildren of the world. I may not have gotten knocked up, but somewhere along the line I definitely got fucked and it resulted in a dependent.
The Manchild cannot be cured by taking antibiotics, nor can it be evacuated or given up for adoption. It is the incurable pandemic that is sweeping the nation and will infect 2 out of every 5 women.
The struggle in solving this problem is that if you are like me, and you don't particularly like drama or crazy bitches, clawing your way out of this situation amicably is fucking impossible. The reason for this being that Manchildren are unique combinations of insecurity, selfishness, ego, and stupid. It is inevitable that the situation will escalate to a level where you take on the role of the mother and have to forcibly detach them from your breasts.