I wanted a big family. I don’t think it’s fair that women with completely fucked up ovaries or the religious are the only ones who can have a big, lovely family. See, I have maternal instincts too, just not the maternal plumbing necessary. But thankfully I have my wonderful life-partner Carolyn. We met at a coffee shop that was hosting their bi-weekly Progressive Lesbian Poetry open mic. I remember, I accidently picked up her order (black coffee) and she accidently picked up mine (chai tea). And you know, we just hit it off. The conversation started off about how men are evil, which they are but I think I’m just slightly devious (tee hee), and then we were talking about women’s rights, role of women in society, and then she finally confessed that she wanted a family. Well gosh darn it did I ever give it to her! Two weeks later we were legally married and started right away with the process.
I went down to the drug store to talk to my friend Phil the Pharmacist (I love alliteration). I told him what’s up and then he told me to meet him in the back alley. For $200 dollars I was able to score, which is the correct term for drugs, 6 pills of a super secret fertility medicine that doesn’t even have a street name yet. I thought 6 were too many for my sweet Carolyn so I ate one. What? I didn’t want to waste it! I don’t know if it had any effect on me but that night I saw the saddest episode of Gilmore Girls ever. Those writers are genius. I cried into my snuggy all night.
A few days later after the medicine ran its course it finally came down to it: insemination. OK, Bradley. You can do this. Positive thinking, positive thinking. Do it for the family. Carolyn popped the medication like they were Skittles while I did some of my Pilates breathing exercises. OK…sex. Sex with your wife…and your wife’s...vagina. Boy was I ever nervous! I’m just glad Carolyn left her Doc Martin boots on. For some reason that really comforted me.
You know how these things go. We went to the doctor and he confirmed that Carolyn was indeed pregnant, and somehow 5 months just sprung by. My co-workers at the sewing store were so happy that I was going to be a daddy! Glenda, Betsy and all the girls pitched in and got me a baby car seat for my Geo and just the most adorable little baby bonnet in the world. I think Carolyn’s friends at that bar she hangs out at every weekend got her some cigars.
I remember the kids’ birthday quite well, all these little details. Our taxi driver’s name was Carlos Mohamed Popadopolis. The nurse serving as a midwife had grime under her finger nails. Carolyn wore her boots in the stirrups. I was wearing my ABBA t-shirt I use for working out. When the doctor announced that I was the father of a healthy, 1lb, 2oz. baby boy, well, I was floored. Imagine, my own, tiny little porcelain doll baby, not unlike my Hummel figurines. And when he said I was the father of ANOTHER, similar sized baby girl, well, I was beside myself. Simply beside myself. By the time he announced my 9th child, the buzz wore off. The final tally was 15 beautiful babies, who immediately had to go into an incubator since they were 4 months early. What a stud I am! And my sweet, sweet, Carolyn. What a trooper. The doctor said that after the birth, her body immediately went into menopause.
What to name them?! There’s so many. We agreed that I would name 7, she would name 7 more, and the last one we would name together. Since Carolyn made me get rid of my cats when she moved in, and they were my babies first and always will be, I named my kids after them, so a piece would always be with me.
Sniffles
Grumpy Face
Whiskers
Bun-Bum
Fang
Schitzo
Mr. Meowski
I don’t know why Carolyn named hers as she did.
Lezly
Doc
Klit
Harley
Indigo
Cunner
Lingus
And for our final daughter, we decided together on Howard because we both hate it (the name, not the baby)
Money isn’t a problem. The nice people at the federal government and Discovery Health Channel together are giving us $1,000/mo for each kid! That’s more than enough to buy food and clothes if we buy in bulk. God bless Wal-Mart. Plus Carolyn came up with a brilliant idea. Instead of getting 15 different bunk beds, which is costly, takes up too much room and is has this really icky “orphanage” vibe to it, she thought it would be practical, and adorable, if the kids slept in one big communal bed. Just like hamsters! I love hamsters! They’re so cute!
And so is my gigantic family.
I went down to the drug store to talk to my friend Phil the Pharmacist (I love alliteration). I told him what’s up and then he told me to meet him in the back alley. For $200 dollars I was able to score, which is the correct term for drugs, 6 pills of a super secret fertility medicine that doesn’t even have a street name yet. I thought 6 were too many for my sweet Carolyn so I ate one. What? I didn’t want to waste it! I don’t know if it had any effect on me but that night I saw the saddest episode of Gilmore Girls ever. Those writers are genius. I cried into my snuggy all night.
A few days later after the medicine ran its course it finally came down to it: insemination. OK, Bradley. You can do this. Positive thinking, positive thinking. Do it for the family. Carolyn popped the medication like they were Skittles while I did some of my Pilates breathing exercises. OK…sex. Sex with your wife…and your wife’s...vagina. Boy was I ever nervous! I’m just glad Carolyn left her Doc Martin boots on. For some reason that really comforted me.
You know how these things go. We went to the doctor and he confirmed that Carolyn was indeed pregnant, and somehow 5 months just sprung by. My co-workers at the sewing store were so happy that I was going to be a daddy! Glenda, Betsy and all the girls pitched in and got me a baby car seat for my Geo and just the most adorable little baby bonnet in the world. I think Carolyn’s friends at that bar she hangs out at every weekend got her some cigars.
I remember the kids’ birthday quite well, all these little details. Our taxi driver’s name was Carlos Mohamed Popadopolis. The nurse serving as a midwife had grime under her finger nails. Carolyn wore her boots in the stirrups. I was wearing my ABBA t-shirt I use for working out. When the doctor announced that I was the father of a healthy, 1lb, 2oz. baby boy, well, I was floored. Imagine, my own, tiny little porcelain doll baby, not unlike my Hummel figurines. And when he said I was the father of ANOTHER, similar sized baby girl, well, I was beside myself. Simply beside myself. By the time he announced my 9th child, the buzz wore off. The final tally was 15 beautiful babies, who immediately had to go into an incubator since they were 4 months early. What a stud I am! And my sweet, sweet, Carolyn. What a trooper. The doctor said that after the birth, her body immediately went into menopause.
What to name them?! There’s so many. We agreed that I would name 7, she would name 7 more, and the last one we would name together. Since Carolyn made me get rid of my cats when she moved in, and they were my babies first and always will be, I named my kids after them, so a piece would always be with me.
Sniffles
Grumpy Face
Whiskers
Bun-Bum
Fang
Schitzo
Mr. Meowski
I don’t know why Carolyn named hers as she did.
Lezly
Doc
Klit
Harley
Indigo
Cunner
Lingus
And for our final daughter, we decided together on Howard because we both hate it (the name, not the baby)
Money isn’t a problem. The nice people at the federal government and Discovery Health Channel together are giving us $1,000/mo for each kid! That’s more than enough to buy food and clothes if we buy in bulk. God bless Wal-Mart. Plus Carolyn came up with a brilliant idea. Instead of getting 15 different bunk beds, which is costly, takes up too much room and is has this really icky “orphanage” vibe to it, she thought it would be practical, and adorable, if the kids slept in one big communal bed. Just like hamsters! I love hamsters! They’re so cute!
And so is my gigantic family.
1 comment:
haha
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