Uh, Um, Gulp, Ahem, Well…

It took 5 years, 5 months and a handful of days, but it finally happened this morning. Let me set the scene for you. Lucy and Ethel were mimicking every dance step and singing or saying every word from ‘Hairspray,’ I was desperately scouring contently surfing the web for an idea to write about today, the coffee was getting luke warm, the clouds were rolling in, The Supremes’ ‘Love Child’ was playing on my Windows Media Player, our dog Mabel was asleep outside in the door-way of the twins’ playhouse, I was wearing my favorite t-shirt after just discovering it had two holes in it (yes, I cried. Like a baby), the dishwasher needed unloading…you know what, we’ll just consider that the scene has been set. I think I was a little too thorough there, sorry.

Anywhoo, as I sat reading an article about how Twinkies first went on sale today (which I would be so willingly to celebrate by deep frying them if only I had gotten that deep fryer for Christmas…stupid Santa), the TV dinner was invented today (don’t underestimate the importance of that fact in my life) and that John Ratzenberger was born on this day (remember, he played Cliff Claven, my useless trivia idol. He could totally kick Alex Trebec’s ‘I know it all’ gentlemanly ‘what is his rear-end for $500,’ if you know what I mean) when Lucy asked a question that literally made me turn pale and throw up a little in my mouth. Oh by the way, I should add that even though it really seems like a good idea, Honey Nut Cheerios, fresh pineapple and coffee DO NOT mix in liquid regurgitated form, unless you are the Travel Channel’s Andrew Zimmern, which if you are, please email me because I have a few ideas I’d like to pitch. If you are still able to follow along, I’m sure you have already guessed what the question was. And you’d be right. Lucy asked ‘we are supposed to avoid people who don’t like cheese, right Daddy?’ I’m kidding. Really, I am. I’d never tell them that…at least not directly. Again, just kidding. Have you sensed my nervousness here in even re-telling this harrowing tale I started two paragraphs ago?

OK, Lucy asked me ‘Daddy, when you already have kids, how do you get another one?’ Now granted I am slower than molasses on a December morn, but I realized pretty quickly what she was really asking me, so I pulled out the old Presidential Press Conference tip sheet and sidestepped the real question by saying ‘you just decide to have another one.’ And then she called my hand. She asked ‘Daddy, HOW do you have another one?’ This is the point where I was sucked out of my body, everything went silent and then my years started to ring. I think I also heard that freaky music one the Wizard of Oz when the witch lady flies by on the bike.

I don’t mind telling all of you close blogging friends that I fully planned on exploiting the way she asked me the question. Let’s review: she asked ‘where’ and then ‘how’ ‘do we get another child.’ I don’t want to play Clinton-esque semantics here (I did not have eating relations with that last piece of pie…), but since the whole ‘where do babies come from’ wasn’t really uttered, I focused on the ‘more kids’ part. Go ahead and say it: ‘this man is an idiot who probably couldn’t follow the directions to put his kids’ red wagon together at Christmastime.’ Gotcha! You should have said ‘wow, this is one brave parent tackling such a multi-faceted perception of life altering question so confidently,’ but now that I know how you really feel about me because you were so quick to repeat the whole wagon thing, maybe I just won’t continue this story…

…But I will. I’m a very giving person. At this point, so many ideas ran through my head about WHERE you could get more kids if you wanted them. Before I clutched my pipe, folded my paper, tightened my robe and answered Lucy and Ethel (you know, if I was Ward Cleaver) I concocted an idea of a lottery where you get another child. Then I thought about telling them that you write your local Congress person to petition for another child, or go to Home Depot (go Tony Stewart!) and buy ‘additional child seeds.’ I was also devising a story about a phone line or website where you ask for more children and happily patting myself on the back mentally for my quick ideas, which is pretty hard (that’s what she said).

Then, not realizing no less than 30 minutes had gone by, I was brought out of my mental back patting by the twins shouting ‘Daddy, Daddy, the movie is over and you have been ignoring us. We asked you a question. Also, we are hungry.’ Don’t worry; I was alert, bold, parental, fatherly and quick on my feet. I stammered out ‘who wants ice cream!’ Of course, they jumped on this. There’s nothing wrong with ice cream at 9:30AM. I learned that from watching ‘Little Miss Sunshine.’ Also, did you know that ice cream won’t make you fat?

It is now that I would like to thank my high school debate teacher for training me how to diffuse potential hot-button topics so quickly and confidently. And to think I almost didn’t take that class. Now, how do I avoid verbal contact with my children for the next 13 years? On a slightly unrelated note, I have a stock tip for you. You might want to buy stock in Dreyer’s ice cream. It seems to be the Lucy and Ethel’s favorite brand…