The Husband has two friends. Well, more than two, my little social butterfly, but these are the BFFs. Both are married. Just like us. Both have two children. Not just like us. The Husband and I are clearly behind in the Offspring Department and sometimes I wonder if we’re not the last childless couple on earth.
(I realize we’re not, but it’s possible we’re the last childless couple we know which is just as bad.)
Last night, the three couples and the four children gathered for a friendly dinner. And by “dinner” I mean The Husband and I ate while the other four adults shoveled in bites of food as they ran past the table in their mad dash to catch a screaming, hitting, and/or crying child.
I knew we were in for an “interesting” evening when our hostess (a genuinely nice and lovely person, really) made a comment that made me realize that their original plan was to only invite the other couple. Because they have kids. A.K.A. a mutual bond. I get it.
But, while I absolutely adore this woman and believe she feels the same, I couldn’t seem to prevent her innocent comment from making me feel inferior and ridiculously guilty. GUILTY. Because we don’t have children. HOW DARE US.
To be fair, it’s possible I’m being a bit overly sensitive as the topic of children is a bitter pill. One, I have my doubts that we’re biologically capable of procreating and two, even if that weren’t a concern, our relationship isn’t nearly as stable as it should be to start bringing extra people into the mix.
Plus we’re moving into a smaller place and I’m not sure it’s legal to have babies sleeping in cabinets even if it is a perfect fit.
Then there’s The Husband who, at thirty-eight, is the oldest of the three. I know it bothers him to be the oldest and most childless, but I can’t help the fact that he married a woman many years younger who happens to have plenty of childbearing years ahead of her and wouldn’t mind enjoying another 3-5 of them childless (there’s a lot to be said for doing WHATEVER YOU WANT). Or that the longevity of our relationship is still in question and, as a child of divorced parents, I’m not in any hurry to risk recreating that experience for one of my own. Yes, I know divorce can happen to anyone, anytime, no matter how dandy things may appear, but in our situation? The risk is just a bit too high at this time.
So, I’ve come to a conclusion.
We need to befriend more married, childless couples.
However, I don’t like people and purposely seeking them out to make friends? I like even less.
Maybe I could borrow a couple of kids on those rare occasions we’re asked over for a play date. That way I wouldn’t feel as if we were playing a game of “one of these things is not like the others.”