I've been giving a lot of thought lately to the amazing fact that as a species we are not yet extinct. I'm usually most astounded when picking up an entire canister of bread crumbs my little boy turned into an indoor sandbox or watching him bathe like a bird in the water table for the third time in the same day.
It seems toddlers were created to end civilization. If parents decide one morning at 6am when their 18 month old is screaming at the top of his little lungs for the swings at the park with no end insight, that just one child is more than enough, eventually the human race dies out. Something, however, went wrong, and I think I know what it is.
Whoever crafted toddlers to be more devastating to mankind than bubonic plague forgot that humans make irrational choices.
When your toddler has thrown rocks at the door from inside the house, dumped an entire box of Kix on the floor, mushed Jell-O into the dog's hair, pulled every book from his bookshelf, screamed, "More!" so many times that you finally just give him ice cream for lunch, and is now brandishing a toy golf club like he's one of the Three Musketeers you know what you think? I know you do, because I think it, too.
WE think, "wouldn't this be a little easier if he had someone to play with?"
And that, my friends, is why we remain.