Babies have entered the work place

Having grown up around a bevy of younger siblings I have always thought of myself as someone that was indeed good with babies.

It was not until recently that I discovered how very wrong I was in that assumption.

Not only can I make a baby cry on contact-but also, I have this uncanny ability to drive a child to tears with just passing glance.

The thing is, I don't understand why this is, or when this horrible change of fates occurred. During my years as a certified babysitter I remember dozens of times when little babies ran to me with open arms, giggling all the way into my embrace.

I have a maternal instinct! I do! And in the darkest corners of my mind I have even considered names I might choose for future offspring. So why this?

Is this God's twisted way of suggesting that for me, having ovaries does not a mother make?

Anyway, it is depressing.

Not only that, but on an entirely unrelated note, a girl in my office just won a trip to Aruba. ARUBA! The last time I won anything was during the summer of 1985. I was 5-years-old and correctly guessed the number of jelly beans in a small jar. But unlike my coworker, all I got for my troubles was the jar of jelly beans and a tummy ache after I tried to eat them all in one sitting.