have never even idly thought for a single passing second that it might make my life nicer to have a small rude incontinent person follow me around screaming and making me buy them stuff for the rest of my life. (I already have several large rude incontinent friends, one of whom is bugging me to buy him a first edition of Ray Bradbury’s Dark Carnival and another who thinks I owe him a Cadillac.) But one reason my friends with children sometimes envy my life, and I never envy theirs, is that they know what they’re missing, and I don’t.
"one reason my friends with children sometimes envy my life, and I never envy theirs, is that they know what they’re missing, and I don’t."
