How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Anthrax

Apparently, since I haven't done the world the disservice of breeding, I, along with all the other non-parents out there, worry much less about terrorist threats. Just ask the AP!

"For a parent, I think it's worse than for a single person," said Margaret Geiger of Ambler, Pa., the mother of six. "It's always in our thinking -- the thought of something horrendous happening, and seeing my children suffer or being separated from them."

First of all, plenty of single people are also parents, thank you very much. Secondly, I wouldn't be surprised that someone who has obviously made it her mission in life to produce a litter of progeny, a whole team of children, would be very caught up in their safety. Isn't that the whole point of having the brats anyway? You take care of them. They're your responsibility. So what's new here? Am I supposed to feel sorry for someone because she is actually feeling the weight of her responsibility (and the frustrating inability) to protect her child? Give me a break. Maybe all parents should get special dispensation, you know, they get to buy the plastic sheeting and duct tape (ha!) first, or they get priority spots in line for vaccinations. We all know how hard the freaking parents of this country work. How special they are for allowing their bodies to involuntarily reproduce. (Especially those fine parents who have more than four children, you know, for working the fields. How the hell does a person raise six children? How many will turn out to be sociopaths?)

I knew that my status as a single, unbred woman was inferior to that of the married parent, but now I know for sure where I stand in the American caste system. Let's have a party! We don't have to worry about war! Woo-hoo! After all, it's not like anyone depends on us or like our lives have meaning or anything.