A Little Anecdote of How a Kid, Even When He's Not Yours, Adds a New Dimension to Your Life

Went to Santa Barbara this weekend. Friday, actually. A group of us were hanging out Thursday night and realized we all had Friday off for whatever reasons and decided to take a day trip.

After eating lunch, we went to State Street and found a bar to have a drink in. A very typical Santa Barbara day trip experience for me, Justin, George, Matt, Martha, and Wilson. Except Wil is one. Now we weren't "drinking" -- we simply stopped in for one beer, but all of us felt incredibly embarrassed and worried about the other patrons' reactions to the whole baby-stroller-in-a-bar thing. Especially since there was a conked-out one-year-old in it. So, despite the fact we finished lunch a mere twenty minutes earlier, we ordered appetizers -- the spinach artichoke dip and mozzarella sticks playing the decoy so people wouldn't think we were in a bar drinking with a one-year-old. Which, again, we were, but like I said, we were staying just for one but no one else would know that. And as we left the bar, pushing the stroller in front of us, we received a few disgusted glances from people making wrong assumptions and judgements.

We were mortified -- more so than when earlier in the day a woman stopped us in a park, cooed at Wil telling him he was adorable, looked at us four guys and asked Martha which was the father, to which Martha replied, "I'm not sure. That's why they're all spending time with him."

Strangely, despite the obvious joke and the real answer given a split second later, the woman didn't think it was very funny.