Thursday, May 26, 2016

Dirty Diapers


Dirty Diapers

I'm not sure when this little phenomenon started, but it is now rampant.

Mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers have given up on being real people. The lives of parents and grandparents seem to be of little consequence anymore. They define themselves based on the everyday comings and goings of their children or grandchildren.

I am a grandfather. At last count, I had six grandchildren. They are all great kids, but my daily life is not spent in some kind of weird adoration of the clan. They do kids things. I do adult things.

I'm not so sure the same is true for other people. On Facebook, for example, every day is a homage to the kids for hundreds and hundreds of people. Some folks even include the children in their profile photos, and this little nuance sends me into a sort of delirium. Are kids like a third or fourth arm? Is there nothing special and unique about you, separate from those gooey eyes, runny noses, and dirty diapers?

Don't think me as hater of children. I'm not. I just find it hard to accept that some people base their identities on something other than themselves. The rugrats have taken over the asylum.

Flaunting your children on the Internet is, quite frankly, boring as hell, if not downright dangerous.

Oh, and don't even get me started on the folks who think their cats or dogs hold some special meaning or importance to anyone but themselves.

Where did all the interesting people go?

 









 








 
 


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