What the lady behind me in line at the grocery store said: “Wow, that is a lot of boys!”
What I thought: Wow. I never thought about it, but it does kind of look like all four of them are mine. I mean, the other two boys I’m babysitting are 2 and 4 years old, just like mine, but they’re so much taller that it makes them seem like they’re older.
Geez, what if I wasn’t just babysitting? What if they were all mine? Could I even handle four kids? I doubt it. Having two is exhausting enough. How would I handle four? I mean, we’ve got the bedroom space for them, but it’d be awful. And poor Squid would become a middle child, and he seems like the kind of kid who would really rebel in his teen years if he was a middle child.
Oh, crap, if they were all mine I’d probably have to get a minivan, wouldn’t I? And I’d have to sell my new Scion, and I really like that car.
Oh, crap. She said something, didn’t she? She looks like she’s waiting for a response.
What did she say?
Oh, yeah. She said, “That’s a lot of boys!”
I should say something back.
What do I say in response? If I say “Yeah!” then it makes it sound like they’re all mine, and what if I bump into her for some reason a couple months down the road, and she thinks I have four kids, and prides herself on remembering, and then I have to correct her in front of everyone, and it embarrasses her…
I wonder if she’s just commenting on the amount of boys… or does she really think they’re all mine? Do I look like the kind of person who has four kids? Great. Now I feel old. Who the heck even has four kids in a row like this? I mean, aside from the Duggars. How many do they have now? It’s in the twenties or somethings, I think. Those people are crazy.
Geez. Life with four kids. That would be crazy. It would have to be on purpose, wouldn’t it? I mean, you can’t have four “mistakes” in a row, can you? Sure, I didn’t get pregnant on purpose with my two, but that’s still kind of understandable. Two mistakes is sort of reasonable, although it’s still a little embarrassing. Four mistakes? Heck, once you even hit three “oops” pregnancies, let alone four, that’s not mistakes, that’s just being irresponsible.
Shoot. She’s still looking at me, and I haven’t answered. What do I say? This is getting awkward. Just say something, Becky!
What I replied: Oh, they’re not all mine. Four kids? I’m not that irresponsible!
What my cashier said, in a very cold voice: I have four children.
And now you all know why I’ll be driving to the next town over to do my grocery shopping from now on.
