I very nearly said something to the lady at the gas station, but I was tired, so I didn’t. She had a very large child, perhaps 6 or 7, he was wearing crocks and sweatpants and a very tight synthetic shirt advertising a videogame. He was eating a lollypop and complaining about having to go to the bathroom alone. She also had a one year old in a car seat. I asked her how old the child was and she said one, I said I had a five month old at home and in a very sarcastic tone she suggested:

they’re just soooo much fun, aren’t they?

I didn’t respond. I bought my sweets and left.
I’ve complained about people complaining before, but never so overtly as I heard this woman. It was caricaturistic. What a good word, that is, caricaturistic. A lot of what I see out and about in the world feels caricaturistic these days. Just...beyond critique or analysis or thought. It’d be sort of unfunny if it were a comedy critiquing the thing that it is. Things are just too on the nose. 

Anyways, I almost corrected her, that indeed it was a lot of fun, indeed I really like spending time with Roby, even when we’re up late and she’s upset. It comes back to the difference between what’s pleasureable and what’s good. Our society can’t seem to understand the simple notion that things that are pleasurable are not necessarily good, and all things that are good, are not necessarily pleasureable. Though there is a fair bit of pleasure to doing what’s good. 

I was away from Roby for most of the day because of a workshop.
It was nice to get back to her.