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DINKs Die Hard
We were one of those couples. A two-earner couple with no children. And no regrets about it. Although my husband would worry about how we’d take care of ourselves as we grew older, I figured … well, it would be hard. But we would manage it. Having children was no guarantee that they’d love you enough to actually act as your guardian. To assume the role of parenting you as you did (or failed to do) for them.
But then you hit sixty and it’s like a brick wall slowly falls on you. Or maybe more like running smack into a brick wall and slowly realizing it’s falling around you.
Sorry about that brief diversion from the topic of DINKs, which was a popular acronym at one time (many, many years ago) for “double income, no kids.”
Those were the thoughts I had this morning, as I considered what I’d read in the paper today.
I thought it was interesting that it was harder for one man to leave Henry Kissinger’s employment than it is to cancel your Amazon Prime subscription. I couldn’t work up much interest in the topic of why water makes espresso beans so much more flavorful. I couldn’t even bring myself to read what it takes to become a Trump supporter (a humor column, of course). But I was interested in the obituary for Juanita Castro. (That’s The NY Times link. Here’s the one for The Guardian.) That had to be a very difficult decision on her part, yet…
