King of the World
I’m king of the world. I’ve made end tables and people. My wife helped some, but not with the end tables. I must have read a bazillion wasted pixels, written by people nearly old enough to qualify for grandparent status, explaining that they’re not ever having any kids because of the need to pay back a quarter-million dollars in school loans, the end result of which is an inability to spell “lose” and a job drawing pictures in foam.
Let’s all read another 600 words of Marketwatch twaddle about how much it costs to raise a kid to adulthood. Oh, lets! I like to read that sort of thing and point and laugh at the author and everybody that reads it and doesn’t point and laugh. If you put a dollar sign anywhere on a child there’s no hope for you. What will they put on your gravestone? Trick question, there will be no one that cares if you’re alive or dead to buy one for you, but for the sake of argument, what would it say? That guy/girl sure could watch premium cable.
Speaking of pointing and laughing, go watch the video again. No one points and laughs better than a toddler.
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