How Green Becomes Wood

"Pretty sure that's not how neuroscience works," Sloan said idly, "I guess I can understand how they get there. If it's stuff they did, they know it's survivable, right? So they don't need to worry as much."
 
Xander shrugged. "I guess so. Seems to me like it's supposed to be more like they know the risks firsthand or whatever, but at least they have survivable rules. They don't change a bunch."
 
"That's good," Sloan replied, and then after thinking about it for a little while exhaled a bit forcefully through her nose, "Do you think they'll be as manageable when their daughter is a teenager?"
 
Xander snorted. "Not a chance. Especially not if she's anything at all like either one of her parents, let alone both." He glanced at Sloan. "You ever think about doing the parent thing?"
 
She scoffed openly, "God no. I genuinely think there are many things I'd want to do less. And it's not that I don't, you know, respect the idea of it, in a... grand, distant way. But, first of all, I don't want to put my body through that. And I know you can adopt, or foster, or, you know," she lowered her voice considerably, "have any potential spouse do that part," she continued at a normal volume, "but regardless, there's no take backs. Once you're past the 'leave the baby at a fire department, no questions asked,' stage, you're stuck with that kid for the rest of your life, unless you decide to be an asshole and abandon it, and I'm pretty sure I'm not that kind of person. So what if you have the baby but realize you regret it? What if they're six, and you're at their dance recital, and you think, oh god, I shouldn't have had her? You just need to live with that and do your best to not let it show, because it's not the kid's fault, it's your fault. And what if the kid's an asshole? You pop out a kid, and oops, they're Hitler 2, and you're like, ****. I gave birth to the second coming of history's favourite villain. There's just... too many downsides, man. You?"
 
"Fair points. I think you'd be a pretty decent parent if you changed your mind, but I don't care if you do or don't. You don't have to change your mind, and you don't have to not change your mind, but you got some good points either way," Xander said, nodding along to Sloan in agreement with most of what she said. "Me? I'm just selfish and short-tempered. I don't have any grand ideas like you or even really the same fears. I just plain don't want to deal with them, and I don't want them to have to deal with me. That simple." He moved to put away his plate. "You know, I read somewhere once that Hitler just wanted to be an artist. That's just... sad the way that turned out."
 
"At least you have some experience dealing with a baby. I remember what Benny was like a little bit, but I was four when he was born. I remember my dad sitting me down and telling me that I had to learn to be a big girl because they wouldn't be able to carry me anymore once the baby came, I remember being upset at my grandma's house because I didn't understand what was happening when my mom was in labour, obviously, and I remember being really, really jealous of how much attention he got. But I don't remember what babies are like, only that I wasn't special, anymore. So if you ever change your mind, which I wouldn't guess you will anymore than I think I will, you'll have some experience." She finished the last bit of her cake and set the plate down, "I think a lot of people want to blame the rejection from art school, but I don't think anybody does something as bad as literal genocide unless they're just... I don't know. Soulless, I guess. I don't think you can be an artist if you're soulless, either." She chuckled grimly, "I probably shouldn't have used him as an example. I don't think it's kosher to discuss Hitler at a Jewish girl's birthday party."
 
"He also went through some severe torture and stuff, and most of the worst stuff was actually invented by his underlings. He still okayed it, but he wasn't the single person who came up with all the ideas," Xander remarked. "I just mean... the dude could have been an artist. Could have just been another crazy Van Gogh or something, you know? Might have still been a crappy dude while turning out some good art. Instead, he does... all the crap he did do. It's just kind of a waste, you know? In the worst way possible."
 
She looked dryly at him and gestured vaguely at her household, "I don't feel sorry for him, and he is who empowered his underlings to do the worst thing a person can do. That's what the whole Hitler Youth thing was about. Training more people to do nothing but hate. Anyway, he wasn't nearly as talented or as skilled as Van Gogh. He was rejected a reason."
 
"I'm just saying an alternate history is interesting and that his parents probably didn't think they were raising up the kind of guy they did. Or maybe they did, who knows? But he had just as many options as any other Tom, Dick, and Harry, and that's what he chose," Xander said. "So, if you did have a kid somehow and some way and they did turn out like Hitler 2.0, it wouldn't be your fault necessarily."
 
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"...You understand why I'm a bit sensitive about it, yeah?" She asked, "anyway, even if it wouldn't necessarily be my fault, it'd still suck. I'd spend the rest of my life being asked why I didn't do better. Remember when Putin invaded Ukraine and that woman made a video saying if she was Putin's mother, she'd have hugged him more, and then it would've been fine. People always blame the parents, regardless of if it's their fault or not."
 
"Including the parents blaming themselves, and it gets no one anywhere," Xander pointed out mildly. "We all make mistakes, sometimes big ones that affect other people, but at the end of the day, we're all responsible for only one person: ourselves."
 
"So you go and have kids then," Sloan rolled her eyes, "Since we're only responsible for ourselves. I think it's pretty healthy to be concerned about introducing more evil and hate into the world. Plenty of people who think they're doing their best aren't."
 
"You realize that you could be introducing the next, I dunno, Mother Theresa or Jane Goodall or peace prize thing winner just as easily as the next Stalin?" Xander pointed out. "Just saying. Anyway, you picked out a good cake. It's got a good ice cream texture."
 
"Again: You have kids then. You take that gamble. I'm not rolling those dice." Sloan replied, amazed that even someone who also didn't want to have kids was ready to argue why part of her decision to not wasn't perfectly valid. "I never really like normal cake. Chocolate doesn't really taste like chocolate, people always add too much frosting, and half the time it's dry anyway. Ice cream is just ice cream. But I'll take most desserts over cake."
 
"Remind me to make you a chocolate cake sometime," Xander said. "I bet it'll be closer to your standards. If not, then I'll have a cake all to myself! And trust me. There won't be too much frosting. I hate eating gobs of frosting."
 
"For one thing, it'd be fresh, and for another, I might start with a box mix, but I don't end there," Xander smirked. "I'll make you one next weekend. I'll even do a bit of colored frosting, but not too much or else the frosting starts tasting like food dye. There's some natural ways to color it, but I'm too lazy for that."
 
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