"Somebody call the police! There's a pants thief on the loose!"

On the way home from a three-year-old's birthday party today, it occurred to me that I am the same age my mom was when she had my older brother.

Now, I know that I'm more mature than I was five, even two, years ago. But everything else aside (the main thing being it would have to be an immaculate conception, followed closely by "I can barely remember to feed Her Majesty"), I definitely don't feel like I could entertain the thought of raising another human being right now.

And to some degree, I guess that's the point. No one ever feels ready. I mean, really - what adult who felt grown up enough to raise a child could actually have fun as much fun as my friends did just by throwing their kid a Spongebob Squarepants birthday party?