Banned from the Bar.
A lover of babies, there are few moments I compare the gnawing baby cry to the fingernail-chalkboard paradox, and bar-time is one of them. Get a sitter - (ask me!) - or grandparent, or rent a movie, but be cognizant of the limited years the rest of us have until we're in your shoes, and let us have our beers in peace. We don't blame you, and some of us want to be you, but until we are, we deserve uninterrupted dating war stories over cheap alcohol so we can commiserate with friends about the life we fear we won't have but inevitably will, especially if we don't have babies interfering with the one-in-a-million chance Mr/s. Right is in the bar commiserating, too, or playing video games, more likely. Enjoy!
Not to mention, it's not actually fun when you have your baby out with you. You're constantly having to pull their lips off of the bar rail, or clean up a mess, or wag a toy in front of their faces to keep them from being bored.
ReplyDeleteI don't go to bars nearly as much as I would like to anymore, but that's just the price you pay for having kids. Or...that's the price you don't pay. It's a hell of a lot cheaper to drink at home.