I have three kids and their names are... well actually I don't know their names, the boy looks like a "Leo" and the girl is definitely a "Maya" but they're just ink on glossy paper I bought at a CVS in Lincoln Park. It started because every single one of my direct reports spends forty percent of their day discussing travel soccer schedules and peanut allergies and I’m just sitting there in the corner office—barely an office, more like a glass box—feeling like a total ALIEN because my weekend consisted of a three-hour brunch and staring at a wall while my bank account drained into the city's bottomless gullet. I needed an "in," a way to look like I’m part of the tribe, so I went to the store and picked the most generic-looking family ever because in this economy you have to be relatable to survive or they’ll replace you with someone whose life isn't quite so... empty.