Kids Will Ruin Your Life
Sweating. Winded. Frazzled. We finally made it through the queue and onto the tramdock. Instantly, people began to gawk. Some whispered. As the crowd pushed forward, an older man leaned in to speak to us.
“Son,” the man said, “are these your kids?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, proud.
“Pretty young to be on deck, dontchathink?”
Our children were young. And excited. They shuffled nervously toward the edge of the empty stall as massive cables yawned above. They were slack-jawed and speechless. Strangely calm and transfixed by the surrounding industrial magnitude. And hungry. Always hungry.
There exists, among the snow and wider outdoor tribes,
