Options For Responding When Random Parents Ask If You Have Any Kids
Belt out “Baby Shark.” It’s a natural parent repellent.
Stare. Stare at them for so long. Stare at them for so long they squirm. Stare at them for so long they leave. Follow them home, break in, when they wake up perspiring, continue staring. As they flee, screaming, stepping on a stray Lego, only to now lie incapacitated with a thousand realizations of how their end might have been different but for Little Bob and his Marvel Lego set, right then, ring their ears with a laugh so evil as to melt all coherent thought.
Contort your face, moisten the eyes and begin to answer. “I… where to begin… long story… what to tell… really, it’s all so.” Blow your nose for effect and hold their hands. Continue speaking in short incomplete sentences, “Back in 2015… unexpected… always dreamt… should’ve known… like they say… goes to show,” and never actually start the story.
Create an imaginary baby. Tell them his name is Albert, that he’s two, and that he has a keen scientific temperament. In fact, just last week when you were helping him color the clouds, Albert said, “Mom, did you know the sky looks blue because of the Raman Effect?” He went on to explain it in great detail. Tell that you are currently looking to arrange playdates for him, but only with kids achieving a Mensa score of 132 or higher.
Ask why they’d like to know. Then look around and call out any two names that pop into your head. “John! Ella!” Hold on, those aren’t unique enough. Call out for Bradjen and Pittston. Wait for a couple of seconds. Turn around and accuse the strangers of kidnapping your kids. Pull up a media contact who owes you one. Put your MFA in Acting to good use when the cameras arrive. Beg. Curse. Threaten. Call 911.
Drop to the ground and wail. Out of reflex, they’ll buy you ice cream; yes, and pizza, too.
Ask to point to their kids. Tell them you’ll be back in a minute. Go to the kids and say mommy and daddy are planning to gift them a pony for their birthday. On your way back, grab some popcorn and enjoy the proceedings.
Ask if they’d like to see some pictures. Don’t wait for a reply. Proceed to show them snaps of your eight pet children including four dogs and a cat, two piglets, and a hamster. Coo over them and repeatedly ask, “They look adorable, don’t they?” Don’t wait for a reply. State that they look adorable. Wonder aloud if you should get a fish as well. Turn to them. Ask if that would be excessive. Look them in the eye. Wait for their response. As they begin to utter a choked syllable, let them know you are getting one.
Ask them in reverse if they have kids. Ask them why. When they answer, again pry as to why. Do this until they’ve bared their soul to you and begin to cry as a cathartic release. Hand them a release form for your new TLC show, Shrink-on-the-Go.
