Admittedly, I don't get out very much. But in typical Christmas vernacular, we ventured into the dark heart of American consumerism: Scottsdale Fashion Square. I was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of the situation. Thousands of contumelious teenagers and Snobsdale socio-elites flooded wreath bedecked halls in an orgy of commerce. Truly, my ninth circle of hell.

Robyn sped off and left baby and me to fend for ourselves. I wandered aimlessly, pushing an empty stroller with baby strapped securely to my chest. In the throng of passers-by, a woman hails me and asks, "Do you know where the movie theater is?" This question made me laugh on so many levels. First, I didn't even know where we were parked. Second, keeping in mind I have a four-month-old baby on my chest, when do you think was the last time I made it to the movies? Third, I'm a 32 year old man with a baby strapped to my chest. Do I appear to be the best candidate to answer your mall information inquiry? I politely told her I didn't know.

I stopped to sit on a bench while baby napped peacefully. Another weary dad and baby sat down next to me hoping for a brief respit. Anonymous Dad strikes up a nice conversation about his Anonymous Kid, his dad life, and his Anonymous Wife. Eventually, Mrs. Anonymous Dad shows up and whisks him away for what is undoubtedly more torture. Certainly, a forgettable event.

My dilemma is this. How do I ask another dude for his phone number? I could use another dad pal in this life and this guy certainly made the grade. But coming right out and asking a guy for his number is a little, well, yeah. I wouldn't even know what to say. "Hey, it was great talking with you. Maybe we can get together sometime and talk more about getting the kids to sleep?" Seems a little stalker-ish. I never was good at asking for numbers. Anonymous Dad, if you're out there, I like reading, walks on the beach, and playing Scrabble.