The 7 billionth person on earth was born on Halloween, according to the United Nations. The UN chose a symbolic baby, giving the title to baby Danica of the Philippines, although a little girl named Nargis, born in Utter Pradesh, India, was also chosen. Perhaps she’s 7,000,000,001. In actuality, a number of other babes in other countries also were celebrated as potentially being the 7 billionth.

There seems to be another baby boom happening here in Asheville (cold winters equal fall bundles of joy). I was thinking about all the baby stuff necessary to care for a bambino, and more importantly, all the baby stuff that parents think is necessary that truly is a waste of money.

The modern day take on Samhain has given me an excuse to load up on crappy candy that I’d never buy otherwise. It also gives me the excuse to wear outrageous outfits and decorate my house with bones and dead things. In past years, I’ve written about child obesity and dental decay, costume drama and expense, and the dangers of letting one’s kids take candy from strangers. But this year, I’ve decided to let go and embrace the decadence of Halloween, especially since I live in the Cesspool of Sin.

The bad news is that, despite all our 21st-century technology, humans still get head lice. The good news is that Asheville now has a certified lice removal service that can rid us of the critters using natural products and the old-fashioned but highly effective method of nit combing.

Barney the Dinosaur turned out to be a registered sex offender (well, the third dude who dressed up in the purple costume). Speaking of purple, there’s Tinky Winky the Teletubby, whose triangular antenna supposedly symbolizes gay pride. Not to mention the psychedelic qualities of both that show and the funky Yo Gabba Gabba. Then there’s Hannah Montana, whose wardrobe could dress a streetwalker. What are parents to do about kids’ television programming? Never fear, Glenn Beck has come to the rescue.

I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. I’ve considered deleting my account on several occasions because, believe it or not, I’m a pretty private person. Though I sometimes find it fascinating to see what people I knew 20 years ago are doing now. Oftentimes, they were more interesting in my imagination than they are in reality (I’m not talking about you, of course). That said, now I’m stuck with Facebook as long as my daughter has a Facebook page.

I have a huge celebrity crush on chef Jamie Oliver. He’s a Dad who cooks like a madman and he’s started a “food revolution” to help combat the U.S. obesity epidemic. Even though Oliver is British — he loves America. What’s not to crush on?