I saw my future at dinner tonight. On the booth next to us, so that we shared backs, were two little girls, 11 months and 5 years. Charli was the older one’s name and she was sweet. Her sister had earrings and he father didn’t smile much. I don’t love the notion of giving a baby a piercing, they don’t appreciate it, don’t consent to it, and it must not feel very good. I judged them, suffice it to say. 

I judged them for that, and I judged them for how sharply they spoke to Charli. She was the kindest, funniest girl, she propper her elbows up on the booth back between us and asked about Roby and my camera and told us about pre-school and her sister and her dad was very clear that she could have absolutely positively no extras on her kids meal. 

I don’t know, man. Roby can have as many extras as she wants. 

I don’t love judging other parents, and I think we all do it with some frequency. But I do love feeling like I’m a parent I can be proud of, and that Abby is, too. More so, even.
That’s a good feeling.