17 November 2009

The Kids Are Alright

Recently, my wife had a friend who had a party for a store opening. Her business is super cool and the stuff that they make is awesome:

It's in the same building as this place, also very cool:

Anyway, to celebrate the opening, there was a party. On a Friday night. So, my wife and I took our son out into the big, bad city after dark. On a Friday. And guess what? We were the only ones there with a kid. At least, the only ones who showed up with a kid. But I'm thinking, by the looks of it, we were the only ones there who had one.

And man, did we feel old. Even if the record scratching to a halt and the multitude of simultaneous turning heads were both a figment of my imagination, it still felt like we were suspiciously out of place. There were some other couples there, yeah, but not necessarily married ones. Young, single, possibly living in sin. No babbling little one to wake them up bright and early the following morning. It was the kind of gathering we used to attend with far more regularity pre-child. It wasn't the most kid-centric environment and our son soon grew antsy, so we didn't stay very long.

Yeah, we're those people. The ones who leave early, or worse, rarely come out anymore. The ones whose weekends are now a blur of pre-dawn wakings and diaper purchases and early nights.

"Well, um, actually a pretty nice little Saturday, we're going to go to Home Depot. Yeah, buy some wallpaper, maybe get some flooring, stuff like that. Maybe Bed, Bath & Beyond. I don't know, I don't know if we'll have enough time."

But for approximately ten minutes or so that night, it kind of felt like old times. We felt like our old selves for a moment. It was the type of thing we once did, sans offspring. I mean, there was a keg there. I almost didn't recognize it, it had been so very long since I'd seen one, even if it had been a staple of my earlier existence. Yeah. We did not belong.

Seriously, when did we get so frakkin' old?

Have we really, finally entered that grown-up phase of our life? The one with playdates and dinner parties and only associating with other old, boring marrieds? Where are all the other hipster parents (assuming that we are such)? You know, the ones from the Mini Boden catalog? Was it really that misguided and uncool to procreate?

And if so, why didn't anyone tell us?

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