All my friends have kids. Their friends have kids. Everyone has kids. Together, they meet and form a sticky kindergarten.

***

But it’s okay, we still can meet. Maybe between 3:20 and 4:25 p.m.? Actually, make it at 4:40. But let’s not speak too loudly, or we’ll wake them. Alternatively, we could sit on the couch, and text each other. That still counts as adult conversation.

***

Or would Sunday work better for you?  I’ll put the kids on screen time, they love the new Latvian version of Shaun the Sheep.

You can even bring alcohol if you want, like we’re twenty again! Mix prosecco with Aperol, so we’ll get drunk faster. Ah, we don’t have glasses anymore. The kids broke them all. We live out of plastic goblets now, but it’s the content that matters, right?

Have you heard about our kids? They’re adorable. Here’s a photo of their newest bubble-gum haircut. Remember that time they bit the neighbour’s dog? Hilarious. The vet bills weren’t.

***

If possible, could you babysit Steve, next Saturday? I know it’s a big ask, but Steve’s easy. He never cries, not even if you turn off the light and leave. Just a small detail, he has lice, but don’t worry, here’s a shampoo. It worked very well for his teacher, maybe.

***

I know, it has been ages. Let’s pencil something in for spring 2027. The kids will be on a scout trip for two days. We plan to sleep on the first day; but come on second, we can finally have sushi.

***

So, Ben and I have been wondering.. why don’t you want to have kids? They’re such a jo—Steve did you kaka again? We’re out of pants.

Where was I? Right—in a couple of years, I heard, it gets better.

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Titi Kusumandari does not have many friends. And she may have even fewer once they read this—if their kids ever let them. She writes about culture, aging, and everything in between.