To all the single ladies

I love this clip of Will Ferrell in Old School trying to explain to some young guys why he can’t do the beer funnel at the house party.

The college kids can’t understand how this guy’s day could possibly be described as “a pretty nice little Saturday.” They also can’t fathom how he could say that he might run out of time for a second store trip.

How can that be? Saturdays hold endless possibilities, do they not?

They do, if you are a childless 20-something.

Every parent knows that prepping and schlepping children—even one—anywhere is a task requiring D-Day-level logistics. A back-to-back Costco and Trader Joe’s trip with three kids under eight can only be undertaken if everyone has eaten, gone to the bathroom, and had proper sleep.

Unfortunately, if you risk a trip without satisfying these vital prerequisites, you will end up carrying library books and potty seats into Costco restrooms in hopes of recreating the ambiance of your downstairs bathroom so that your middle child, the one who refuses to go in anything but laboratory conditions, will somehow “get in the mood” to use the facilities so that the shopping can continue.

Try an excursion like this when the kids are tired and they may fall asleep two minutes from the destination. Shall you wake them, and keep faith with the mission, even if it means that Shoprite may meet Beelzebub? Or do you let ‘em sleep and keep everyone else playing Simon Says for 1.5 hours in the parking lot?

Picking up a few things at the store while the children’s blood sugar is low means they will find the smallest annoyance – such as the absence of a miniature shopping cart to push through the store – a first order insult deserving of hysterical tantrums.

All of this will mean nothing to young, single people. You may see such antics, and think, “Lousy parents.”

I have a few things I want to say to you young’uns. I see you eating a leisurely dinner on the outside patio of a trendy restaurant at 9:30 p.m. when I’m dragging myself out to CVS to get baby Tylenol. Yes, I might be jealous.

I also see you walking out of your house at 10 a.m. with your exercise clothes on, stopping to breathe in the bright freshness of an Indian summer mid-morning. You look so rested and happy, almost as if you just woke up. Yes, I might be envious.

You look like you might have even had the good fortune to have gone to the bathroom without anyone walking in and asking – urgently — when it is, again, that we will construct the model airplane? Yes, I covet your privacy.

But I am thinking that you don’t understand my world.

I bet you think my life is over, and that just because I am wearing a watermelon-juice-stained T-shirt and stretchy pants and that my hair was last cut by a professional while Seinfeld was on the air that I don’t really enjoy life much anymore.

But I am thinking other things too. I am thinking that you don’t yet know what it means to be truly happy.

But that’s okay. I was once you. And one day, if you’re lucky, you will be me.

Someday you, too, will flop into to bed –gleefully – at a time when you once would have made dinner reservations. One day you won’t care if you sported a cowlick to the PTA meeting because your kid finally rode a bicycle that day … or read a sentence … or tried a tomato and liked it.

One reason I love Will Ferrell’s character in this scene is because he really, truly does feel it’s a “pretty nice little Saturday.” And it is.

Originally at

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