Email from the other side of the fence

GLAMORIZE: to look upon or depict as glamorous; romanticize

I have quite a few friends who have chosen not to have children. 

It’s easy for me to imagine their lives are filled with endless uninterrupted conversations about meaningful topics, hours of relaxing solitude, and leisurely gourmet meals where all the people at the table chew with their mouths closed. 

I imagine them arriving home from work and saying, “What will I do with my hours and hours of discretionary time?”   

I have one particular friend who makes amazing use of her time.  Pick a topic, any topic, and she has taken a class or done an activity related to that topic.  Below are a few only slightly exaggerated conversations:

Me: I need to buy dish towels.

Friend: I need new dish towels too.  I’ve got the loom all set up, but I’m not done yet.  Did I mention I am taking a weaving class?

Me: I need to find a few new recipes to mix things up.

Friend: I just took a great cooking class.  It wasn’t as good as the Indian cuisine class I worked as the prep chef for last month, but it was way better than the fat and gluten-free holiday dessert class I took a few weeks ago.  Want me to copy some of the recipes for you?

Me: Good morning.

Friend: Guten Morgen!  I decided to take a German course in preparation for my upcoming trip. 

Me: Look at this funny cat video.

Friend: Did I tell you about the elaborate cat funeral I attended?  It was for the cat of a lady I met through my work fostering disabled animals for the local animal shelter. 

Me: Look! A squirrel.

Friend: I used to tag squirrels for research when I was younger.

She is one of the most interesting people I know.  I think she senses my jealousy and realizes that I might be idealizing her life.  This week, she forwarded me an email exchange to let me see life on the other side of the fence. 

Friend to Me

Email between childless couple.  In case you were glamorizing us…


Friend’s Husband to Friend

Someone puked yellow stuff.


Friend to Friend’s Husband

I bet Clover puked. 

She barely ate any breakfast. 

I bet there is a wad of fur waiting to come up. 

Friend’s Husband to Friend

Rudy forgot to wash the bedding while I was gone. 

I gave her one thing to do and she couldn’t do it.


What a good friend, huh? 

Nothing strikes gratitude in the heart of a mother like picturing all the childless couples of the world spending their free time dealing with cats that puke and refuse to do chores. 

Same stuff, only the culprits have more fur.


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