I don't want to offend anybody who has kids, wants to have kids, used to be a kid or is seriously thinking of buying a few. I was a child myself once. So were both of my sisters, each of whom I love like a brother. We have a son. And two granddaughters. This has nothing to do with children or the relative merits thereof. It's just a observation, ok?
I read in the Washington Post last night about a weekly happy hour at a restaurant called Blue Ridge in Northwest DC. Let me quote here:
"About 25 moms and dads mingled on the restaurant's back patio last Thursday, despite the evening rain. They sipped wine and cocktails while chatting about their neighborhoods, their backgrounds and, of course, the munchkins strapped to their chests."
If I get hit by a bus this afternoon and wake up on a "patio in the evening rain sipping wine and cocktails while chatting about neighborhoods, backgrounds and, of course, munchkins strapped to various chests in attendance" I will know for certain that it has all been for naught, everybody was right and I was on my way to hell before the back wheels even crossed my chest.
(I'll save you the trouble. I'm KNOW I'm not the target for these things. I'm just saying . . . )
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