Oddly, this scene (plus, just living life the past year) caused me to realize that even though I’ve never wanted to have children, and would’ve pursued that option harder a decade ago if I did, that if I had ever met a man who was crazy gung ho on having them and crazy gung ho on me, I probably could’ve been convinced. Me, just me? No. But that influence was possible, I’m thinking, or at least from the present, stable 43-year-old viewpoint (which I didn’t have at 33). Now, it doesn’t matter.