…the way they cram all ten toes into their mouths, cry so hard I can see their tonsils and smile so ecstatically that they nearly wiggle right out of their chairs.
What I missed most about having a baby around
Let’s hope the Trump luxury restaurants serve their wine in sippy cups.
Thirty years from now, I can see my children entering a fancy restaurant, order nice steak dinners, pick the pasta off their plates and leave the rest on the floor and table. After that, I imagine they will bang their silver on the table, order ten desserts and laugh so hard they squirt Chateauneuf du Pape out their noses.
Just keep walking.
The mission: enter Walmart with a list of three items. An hour later, stand in the checkout line counting all the crap overflowing from your cart. You will feel every bit the miserable failure that you are. Now turn around in those Faded Glories, look straight ahead, march past those rollback savings, avoid eye contact with the greeter, bury your head under a flier and think about what you’ve done.
If I could have just one wish…
…it would be that a baby’s hysterical screaming was a whole lot more specific.