At some point, somebody asks you what your hobbies and interests are.

You pause--because you're not really sure. And that seems weird to you. I mean, everybody knows what they like to do in their free time, right? After all, there are movie-watchers and poker-players. There are hockey-game attenders and rock-concert attenders. There are readers who devour books in a week. There are joggers and weight-lifters. Surely you are into something.

Nope.

You realize you don't have hobbies and interests--unless writing five-minute brainless entries on a xanga counts as a hobby--because they typically require freedom from young children who get into glue sticks when you try to do a craft or who make your daily walk three times longer and much, much slower than it should have been. (This is a dilemma I am faced with now that I have three children and a stroller that only holds two.)

But before you answer the question, you realize that you're okay with not having a hobby or interest. And why not? Plenty of girls dream about having babies, look forward to dressing children, and plan on being a mom. In a way, what you're doing everyday really could be looked at as an interest.

So with a pleasant satisfaction and contentedness, you answer, "Not really. But that's okay."