I read David Sedaris's piece in New Yorker. I am not sure if I understand it. It is under "Recollections" instead of "Fiction", so I presume it is a nonfiction piece?
The narrator lives in a shantytown, with a bartender and her nine-year old daughter next door. Some saintly whim makes the narrator try to make some positive example for the nine-year old. The narrator is, as the stereotype, or traditional wisdom predicts, a gay artist, full of naivete and good will. It turns out the society is much more realistic, and girl and her mother more detrimental than he ever imaged.
Also in this issue, James Surowiecki tells us that in the economical down turn, raising a child tends to be more expensive, according to the statistics. Also, I remembered the famous quote about statistics well: "lies, damned lies, and statistics" by Benjamin Disraeli.