In the next room, Max and Samson are playing a goodnight game called ''neighbors.'' Created by the five-year-old, its a game where two neighbors discuss their days, what they've been up to, how the kids are, how work's going.
I have never been allowed to play.
From what I can tell, the kiddo just quit his job, and he's about to go on a 15 week trip to Israel. He has a new job at his neighbor's company, where they make soap cookies and kid-appropriate army books. His kids are finishing school tomorrow, and this will involve a great deal of cake.
I'm pretty sure that having a kid is the most terrible and wonderful thing that could ever happen to anybody. Anyone who's had a kid knows its really a crap shoot--no matter how much planning, preparation, praying or wishing one does, you still end up with a tiny version of yourself, one that regularly holds an emotionally jarring mirror up to your anxious face. At times, what you see in the mirror will fill your eyes with tears of pride. Other times, which is to say most times, it will scare the bejesus right out of you.