Oh, what a dreadful dilemma the aging hipster parents, in their 40s and expecting kids for the first time, face. They have spent so much time creating exquisite, exorbitant interiors, and they now must change their plans.
Must their curtains woven from mermaid farts and moonbeams succumb to the slovenly onslaughts of partly formed humans who cannot properly wield spoons?
Will the throne of imported unicorn horns, garnished in a tastefully pseudo-ethnic pattern with laser-etched bees’ knees, be relegated to the garage before a tiny being with the gait of a drunken landlubber trying to set up a folding chair on the deck of a ship in a typhoon careens into its corner and bumps its head?
Who gives a shit?
The New York Times Home & Garden section, with its earnest examination of the heart-wrenching dilemmas faced by 0.0000000000000000003% of the U.S. population, cannot be taken seriously. Most people make a compromise between their new kids and the fabulously decorated, kid-unfriendly house they lived in before kids. I’m sure there’s some wailing and gnashing of teeth as certain beloved objects are discarded or removed, but it’s not a tragic turning point of life worthy of some Catholic Sacrament of Banished Knickknacks. By characterizing this compromise as some sort of undefeatable tension in the lives of new hoity-toity parents, the New York Times makes the interviewees come off as self-absorbed idiots who not-so-secretly like their Louis Quatorze chairs more than their kids.
BITE THE WAX TADPOLE, MORONS!!