THE CONSEQUENCES of our snowy winter will show up nine months from now, and when they do, the consequences will have names.
Those innocent children, conceived during blizzards and power outages, will arrive through no fault of their own. So, do me a favor. When the baby boom begins, don’t take it out on the kids. It’s not cool to saddle them with names like Ice Storm and PECO in an effort to get back at The Man. It’s wrong to name them Black Ice and Snowflake in the hope that they’ll become spoken-word artists.
What’s the right thing to do? Accept them. Love them. And know that they will live with you for 18 years before going away to college, and ultimately returning to occupy your basement like the 99 percent.
Maybe having babies was not your intention. Maybe you’re looking back on your actions and wishing you’d done things differently. But I’m here to tell you that no kid is born by accident. They’re born because we get frisky when it snows.
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