In Williamsburg, the newest generation of babies/children are immune to most stimuli that might be alarming to a baby/child in, say, Kansas. Case in point is how often “men” and their “live-in partners” feel compelled to bring their offspring into the low-life setting of a bar. As someone who goes to bars often, I can attest to being a low-life surrounded among low-lives. For a baby to be in this environment–especially a male baby–for prolonged periods of time foretells a decidedly dickless future (or whorish one if said baby is a female). And so, a word to the wise, become an alcoholic in the privacy of your own home.
Having a baby is already the least rock n’ roll thing you can do, but taking it to brunch really compounds your missing a dick situation. Why do you even feel compelled to go to brunch in the first place? Are soft scrambled eggs that much of an essential in your soft scrambled life? If you really must spend 25 dollars on a breakfast your could make for 10, at least have the decency to not bring your baby. And, please, under no circumstances, do not go with a “male” friend who also has a baby while your wives or nine-year long girlfriends go to yoga.