When I was in college, I took Geology 101 as one of my science requirements. (I also took Astronomy and Nutrition in my one-woman attempt to find the easiest science courses at the university level.)
Geology was an hour and a half long, which is about an hour and twenty-nine minutes longer than I ever really want to think about igneous versus sedimentary. The professor didn’t take attendance, and he provided a “study sheet” for each class that was available on a table at the front of the room before class started. The class started at 12:00 pm, a time which is universally known as Dear-God-Feed-Whinger time.
I could only conclude from all of these factors that not only did I not have to attend lectures, but that the professor didn’t even want me there. He wanted me to swing by on my way back from what I’m sure was some sort of hoity-toity literature class, pick up my study sheet, and go see what was for lunch. Otherwise, he wouldn’t make it that easy. I mean, come test time, I only had to review the notes he handily made for me and fill in the appropriate dots on my Scan-tron slip.
When I got an “A” in the class, my conclusions were only confirmed: Sometimes people make it overwhelmingly easy to do the “wrong” thing because they WANT you to.
I bring this all up, of course, because of increasing evidence that my friends would like me to have their babies.
Now, when I say “have their babies,” I don’t mean it in the sense of surrogacy. I don’t mean my friends want me to carry their children for them in my womb in a selfless gesture of goodwill for the infertile. I mean that my friends want me to take their babies to come live with me and Wife and Dog and Cat and Chickens. It’s not like I wouldn’t tell the babies who their parents were, and it’s not like it’s forever: Once the babies turned into toddlers they’d be immediately returned from whence they came. I’m not looking to kidnap the babies. I’m not a monster. I just want to…borrow them. I really only need them long enough for the babies to nap on me for one or two hours a day.
I implore you to look at the proof that people are trying to give me their babies. Just as my Geology professor clearly wanted me to only show up on test days, people in my life are making their babies way too cute and available. For example, Kiki and Ish recently had Eve. We went to see her on Saturday, and they handed her right to me and let her nap in my arms for a full hour. They took pains to point out her adorable hair, her feisty habit of waving her arms, her sweet little mouth. They even dressed her up in a summery little pink outfit. Showing her off? Maybe. But doesn’t this all just sound like marketing?
I guess you could try to write it off as the typical behavior of new parents, but note that during the time when I had Eve in my possession, no one barred the door, something you should clearly do when your baby is as cute as Eve. When I made comments on how much I wanted to snatch her, I received smiles in return.
While it’s possible Kiki and Ish misunderstood me, choosing to believe I spoke in a hyperbolic joking fashion about taking their baby, I think that really I should just bring a car seat the next time I visit.
