Ken & Ariel's Love Child?

I was in my cubicle, dutifully adding my boss's email address to porn mailing lists ("Girls pleasuring FARM ANIMALS, tsmith! tsmith, wanna see TWINS and there [sic] DAD get it on?!?") when I heard a commotion down the hall. Women were squealing, some clapping their hands in delight. Thinking the bottled water guy had dropped his clipboard again, I hurried over to catch a quick glimse of that tight ass in motion. The women were gathered around Rosario's cube, cooing and sighing over--a baby.

Marsha was on maternity leave but couldn't wait to come back to the office to show off "Woodruff Tobias McNulty". I looked at the infant, drooling and bearing an uncanny resemblance to Jabba the Hut. "Don't you just want one?" Karen said, nudging me in the ribs. Like it was a friggin' Kate Spade bag or something. "Uh, yeah. Can't wait." I replied with a fake smile. "Don't worry, you'll find a guy someday who'll want to have kids," Marsha said with a condescending pat on my shoulder. Before I could respond, Woodruff took the opportunity to fart and barf on her hair at the same time. Thanks, kid. "Um, well, you know Marsha--hey...is that the fire alarm?" I quickly made my escape.

Smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk while my office mates rushed back and forth in confusion ("Did you grab the baby bag? That's a Dooney & Bourke baby bag!!" screamed Marsha) I contemplated my current views on offspring. Marsha was right in a way; some guy was sure to catch me and knock me up sooner or later, in a moment of weakness (or drunkeness, take your pick.) Maybe my clock is slow or needs a new battery, but I'm in no rush to trade my stilettos and one-night-stands for fat-ass jeans and all-nighters with the screaming miniature Tazmanian Devil. I'll wait a little longer before experiencing the joys of supermarket tantrums and the cutthroat "Mommy & Me" playgroups. Like I said, I'll have one sooner or later...but you'll have to catch me first.