Recently, after Kent had just finished pitching me a business plan as he is wont to do, Fluffy piped up with one of her own.
Fluffy: What if you had a business where you give people your babies, and then they keep them until they are kids?
Me: But wouldn’t you be sad that you didn’t get to see your babies and play with them while they are growing up?
Fluffy: No, because then you wouldn’t have to do all the baby stuff. You just get to do the fun kid stuff.
I can think of a few cultural examples of Fluffy’s business model in practice. Hmm. When would you take the babies back? When they sleep through the night? When they’re done nursing? It was before her third birthday, maybe about 2.5 years old that I stopped wishing Fluffy were a little bit older. Certainly ages 3 and 4 have been delightful and I’ve wished constantly to stop the clock on her cuteness.
Nope. Nope. I need my honeybears the whole time. I need them just as I’ve had them, right on my head day after day. I will not share.