Old Haunts

Over the weekend, I decided that I needed to buy a baby gift for my coworker’s new baby (who was born over the weekend), so I visited the Gymboree across the street. My last visit to Gymbo was over a year ago so I think it makes me a recovered former addict. Hat, long sleeved onesie, socks, blanket. All in a super cute dogs-driving-trucks pattern. I still love that place.

There are two directions that I could take this…either the “I’m past the baby rabies stage” direction (which is a bold faced lie) or the “Fucking coworker, married not even a year and his face is a pizza how come he gets to procreate??” (which is disturbingly impolite and self involved) but the truth is that we’re, what, three years past the intense baby chase years and I really lack the energy to hold onto all of that anger on a full time basis. It hits me from time to time, though such as when I realized that having a (theoretical) baby tomorrow means that Gene would be parenting a minor for 36 straight years.

(Surely not even Jim Bob Duggar can say that?)

One thought on “Old Haunts

  1. Lemme put it into context for you. When I had the twins, Amina was 18. Jer hadn’t been a full time father, and with the distance involved, he was a virtual Skype/phone dad for much of her adolescence. But women generally do most of the parenting in about 98 percent of the time. Here’s a scarier fact, when the twins graduate high school, jer will be literally retirement age. 65 or 66. Terrifying.

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