Do you have any kids? | June 28

“Do you have any kids?” Nope, we don’t. And you’re kidding, right–because you’ve known us for ten years. [ten-ten-ten-ten-ten-ten-ten-ten] Funny, funny. Okay, but seriously. You knew we didn’t have kids, right? ~grin~ “No. We didn’t know you didn’t have kids.” Rrrright. [You kidders.] So you’ve never seen us with any children at church meetings, or at activities, or on the front lawn, and didn’t ever suspect we don’t have children? ~smile~ [C’mon you tricker trickersteins.] And with a simple shrug of their shoulders, they casually responded: “Nah, we just didn’t know.” So a word or two or three makes its way out of my heart and up my throat and out of my mouth, and I said something foolish about hiding the children in our basement because they’re homely and then talked about something else. Something and anything else. [I’m trying to figure out why the subject of not having children mattered as much as it did at the moment–I mean really–after all these years–why did it matter to me at all?] They left and I’m sitting here wondering how in the world it is even possible that they didn’t know we don’t have children.

~sheesh~

I suppose we should have put a sign up on our lawn.

Or–worn t-shirts. This would be the front of the t-shirt.

This would be the back.

It’s just an idea.

Of, course I would accessorize.

It a little bit breaks my heart that anyone would think that we have children that we don’t spend any time with. We don’t bring them to church, or church activities, or play with them outside, or involve them in Primary, or Mutual, or enroll them in school. They’re not connected or associated with any other children in the neighborhood. We never talk about them or celebrate them. We don’t take them anywhere. Not shopping. Not vacationing. Not traveling. Not driving, walking, biking. We don’t eat ice cream with them. We don’t post pictures or tell stories about how adorable our children are or ever have been.

“Do you have any kids?”

~sigh~

No.

Ahhh,ten years, for real? You truly didn’t know that rather significant piece of information that has shaped and redirected and changed our lives?

~sigh~

I know enough about them to know they don’t have a horse.

Or chickens.

Or a swimming pool.

They could own an island, I suppose.

I know where they graduated from college and how they met.

I know their children by name.

I know that the thing they prize above all is their family. It’s the thing I prize as well–but it’s a family with no children. It’s a family of Handsome Dude and moi.

I’m having a thought.

I think it mattered so much today because the day has been preceded by weeks of feeling thrown away and unnoticed–not by anyone in particular. Just being tired and unable to sustain any sense of even keel. [And don’t even tell me that you’ve never felt that way, because, yuh, I won’t jump on the train of believing you.] No, I’m not sending out invitations to any kind of waaa-festival. Those kinds of things don’t do anything but turn kind-hearted, mis-focused souls into dragons. I’m not doing dragon here. Let me just say that I don’t think it would have mattered one single bit if they’d asked about us having kids if I’d had a healthy soul and heart. And some sleep.

Crimin-it-ly.

I might need to remind Handsome Dude that there are no children.

Sometimes he forgets and sets a table for six.

~grin~

Life is good.