No surprise really. I mean, I like everyone and as far as I know they all like me, but the guys are all into football, which I'm not, and the women are all, well, women. I like being around women but there's only so much you can talk about before you start looking at her boobs or picturing her in a bikini contest. And that can get awkward, especially when you're supposed to be leading them in Bible study.

 

So I kind of didn't fit in and as I stood there on the back porch, one of the women (one of the hot ones that I mentioned earlier), was bouncing this baby up and down and singing to it. I'm not sure what baby it was, but I'm pretty sure that it wasn't her baby and I'm positive that it doesn't matter anyway to the rest of the story.

 

I was watching her and I flashed for a second back ten years to when my wife was doing the same thing with our baby, and I felt not just a profound sense of loss for what was past, but also the realization that I probably wouldn't get any of that back in the future, and my days of singing to my own babies were over.

 

And I felt sad, a little, I guess mostly because it feels like I left something undone. Like I wasn't quite finished, maybe.

 

But aside from the kids thing, why should I have to feel like I'm missing something just because I'm single? People act like I'm missing out on this perfect relationship that's just sitting out there waiting for me to pluck it from the Dream-Tree in my front yard, but the reality is that I'm just missing a horribly dysfunctional and self-destructive marriage. And if those are my two choices, I think I made out pretty good.

 

It's ironic that when single people get tired of partying, they think they should be getting married and settling down. Married people get dissatisfied and think they should start having kids. Then when they have kids they start looking for babysitters so that they can go out and party.