My fingers fairly ached to feel the softness of his fat limbs and the oversized roundness of his skull in my palm. For an instant, I considered boosting the tike into my arms and speeding away before his mother could catch on, or at least sitting down on the sidewalk and tickling him. I of course did neither of these things, but I must admit that my baby-snatching impulses have been multiplying at an alarming rate. Without knowing how it happened, I have somehow become a baby-coveter. I have found myself perusing children's clothing stores with nary a niece or nephew to buy for.
Babies are for sissies.
Granted, I no longer hang out in hip bars until all hours of the night. In fact, I couldn't really tell you where the hip bars are anymore. And I suppose it has been a long time since I bought thrift-store clothes, pierced a body part or dyed my hair a color wilder than Espresso Brown. And though I'm loathe to admit it, it's also been a while since I escorted at an abortion clinic, volunteered at a women's shelter, served food to the homeless or marched to take back the night. Instead, I've focused on building a career I love and have forged a relationship with a man that I think will last the rest of my life.