This morning I got out of bed 20 minutes early, which, considering that I normally get out of bed 10 minutes late, was an act that could only be inspired by pure love. Yep, I flung off the covers, put on some warm socks and a bathrobe, plucked a can of foul-smelling paste from the fridge, poured a cup of water, mixed the latter two together to make an utterly repulsive gruel, and fed it to two very appreciative little mouths.
I didn’t necessarily need to, but I supervised the entire affair, assisting with directional scooping and repositioning of their little bodies so they didn’t miss a morsel. Then I picked them both up and tucked them into my robe, kissing their heads and whispering little coos of encouragement.
And I thought, for roughly 20 seconds, “hmmm, maybe I could be a parent...”
Nah.
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