Congrats, you got drunk one night, or tried to save a failing relationship, and you’re now stuck with a little critter who you love more than anything in this world, other than your own sense of self-worth.
Last I checked, the decision to have children rests solely on the parents, accident or not. Unless I somehow orchestrated a molly fueled date in a majestic setting for you and your lover, where the only outcome would be sweet baby making, I had nothing to do with the process. Yet every damn day, I’m impeded in my quest to live and roam free throughout city streets and stores, because of your stupid baby strollers. Continue Reading→