While walking the dog this morning, I passed a neighborhood home where I spied the idyllic little family – husband, wife and child – sitting down together for a civilized breakfast around the dining room table.
Minutes earlier, I’d stood over the toaster inhaling two strips of microwaved turkey bacon while waiting for the Eggos to pop up so I could shove them into my kids’ mouths as they ran out the door with their shoes untied.
(And yes, as I passed the home of the Family of the Year, I did mumble to myself, “assholes.“)