Paul Rudnick

People arguing passionately over whether Kim Kardashian, Jennifer Lopez or Beyonce unveiled the best butt at the Met Ball.

People arguing passionately over the Pen Award to the staff of Charlie Hebdo, and whether the award is Islamophobic.

People arguing passionately over whether LA is the new Brooklyn.

People arguing passionately over whether Baltimore is the new Detroit.

People arguing passionately over whether the use of military drones represents the most cowardly immorality.

People arguing passionately over when Amazon will be able to use drones to deliver cosmetics and 12-packs of paper towels.

People arguing passionately over whether the new Adam Sandler movie insults Native Americans.

People arguing passionately over whether Rhianna’s yellow gown insults China, and resembles an omlette.

This is absolutely true: I’m waiting in line at Costco, and there’s the best behaved, most intent child I’ve ever seen, seated in the baby seat of a nearby cart. She’s maybe two years old and she’s busy with a child-sized tech device, in hot pink to match her outfit. She’s swiping and using the screen’s keyboard, with far more ease and savvy than, for example, me. I decided that she was using a new app called Kindr, which allows preschoolers to set up their own playdates. Here’s what I imagine this child was thinking, as she checked out various other toddlers’ faces and made her decisions:

“No hair, no teeth, no way.”

“A pacifier? Really?”

“Hmmm…either confident or asleep – I can’t decide.”

“A onesie with a Spongebob pattern – YES!!!”

“I hate it when the Mom and Dad smush their faces into the picture – so needy.”

“Oh please, she’s says she’s three and a half – MAYBE TWO YEARS AGO, HONEY.”

“Twins? So they’ll hog twice the Gerber Applesauce?”

“That’s a baby seal! WEBMASTER!!!”