The Slice: No-kids ‘look’ undeserving

In Spokane, if you are a married adult of a certain age and have no children, you know the look. It is part eyebrow twitch, part lip curl, and 100 percent damning suspicion.

The look asks, “What’s wrong with you?”

I’m sure this happens everywhere. But something tells me an exceptionally large percentage of parents in the Lilac City have a special knack for this brand of lifestyle judgment.

Of course, some people don’t just stop with an accusing expression. They go ahead and ask.

It’s none of their business, of course. Still, they press the issue.

Some pose questions that are borderline insulting. Others approach it gently, as if they are afraid to shock you with the news that you were supposed to have children and maybe you simply hadn’t gotten the memo.

But what they all really want to know is this: Why haven’t you made the same family choices they have?

As I said, it’s none of their business. And I try not to let insensitive dolts bruise my feelings.

But there’s something about these exchanges that does bother me. I’d wager it’s irksome to many other childless adults.

I do not care for the insinuation that I do not like kids.

That bugs me. There are few better ways for someone to conclusively demonstrate that he or she simply does not know me.

I’ll spare you the self-serving spectacle of me trotting out my rebuttal credentials. In calm moments, I’m quite content with the idea that people close to me understand. That’s enough.

But I’ve got to tell you, I’ve found myself utterly baffled more than once by people who are familiar with my work managing to leap to the conclusion that yours truly is anti-kid.

Not guilty.

Of course, the same thing sometimes happens when people learn that I have no pets. I explain that I am cursed with sledgehammer allergies. And still, people — adults who read my column, mind you — conclude that I must not like dogs and cats.

Hello? Some people don’t listen, I guess.

Anyway, I’ll tell you what brought all this to mind. I was listening to complaints about winter and found myself thinking about how I actually prefer the season to summer.

Except for one thing.

I walk by a day-care center every day on my way home from work. The place has a grass playground surrounded by a tall chain-link fence.

And when the kids are playing outside on a regular basis, they almost invariably manage to kick or throw several balls over this fence.

I like to stop and toss them back. From the looks these preschoolers give me, I’d say they have entertained the possibility that I am a friendly Martian or something. Makes my day.

But lately, they’ve mostly been playing inside. The balls have stayed inside the fence.

I wonder how early spring will come next year.

“Today’s Slice question: What’s your best mistletoe story?