To me, having kids always seemed liked something to do when you run out of ideas for having fun in life, and feel its time to start handing things over to the next generation. Either that or you buy cheap condoms.
It's probably an insular view. However, earlier today I was leaning against a shopping centre wall waiting for a friend when some toddler, who obviously wasn't looking where he was going, and probably scraping something along said wall, walked straight into my legs, fell over, and burst into tears. His mother ran up to me and started hurling abuse. Had I been staring at my feet and seen the little mite rather than been looking out for my friend, I would have moved, but if parenthood makes people this biasedly protective and aggressive, I'll give it a miss.