The friend without children (we all have them)
Try as you might to maintain friendships with people who don’t have children, sometimes the differences between your lives can just seem insurmountable. Especially, I’ve found, as the kids get a bit older (babies, of course, are portable and can be touted around in various designer containers till they’re able to walk).
The other day, a friend who has no children made a snarky comment to me apropos of the fact that, when I fail to return her missed calls, I blame it on the fact that I spend my days running about after two children.
“I’d better get myself some kids,” she wrote icily on Facebook, “so I can get out of calling people back.”
And then, when we finally spoke, she said, “Let’s meet for breakfast.”
“Sure,” I said. I love a good breakfast out. Beats the usual yoghurt and fruit I eat at home and, after the school run, I’m ravenous.
“How about 11am?” she said.
And you ladies who have children? You know exactly what’s wrong with that, don’t you.