Charles Harmon

reading Spectrum

at the library together

family fun

Close Encounter of the Costco Kind

 

First became conscious of her presence in the dairy section

when she sidled up, brushing against me, her cart full of low fat

as I pulled out jugs of 2%-- why did she look so familiar?

Ran into her again in diapers, six cartons in her basket.

She asked me, “Do you prefer Huggies or Pampers or Luvs?”

Here she was again in kiddie clothes, toys, children’s books!

I realized this was no coincidence—she was following me!

Spark of recognition, read about her in the papers, saw her on TV.

She lives in this town, six kids go to school just down the street,

Eight more born recently by in vitro fertilization—it’s OctoMom!

I make my getaway; she can’t catch me with that overloaded basket!

But her desperate voice follows: “Wait! Come back! I need a husband!”

 

“Already married!” I reply, waving my ring in the air as I race for the exit.

Just what I need—fifteen more mouths to feed when I’ve already got four.

I married a widow, adopted two orphaned step-kids, and was blessed

with one more of my own. But it’s a lot of work, responsibility, money,

and love raising three kids with two parents.

I can’t imagine raising fourteen kids all on her own.

No wonder she wants help, but it ain’t me babe.

She seemed to want to be seen as some kind of superwoman,

but in reality, I had read that she had made a botch of it.

She got the attention she craved, but how good a job could she do alone?

I felt a little sorry for her, but even sorrier for the kids.

I could understand, I also had wanted a large family, but not that large.

Maybe if I were a farmer and needed field hands.

If having a kid makes you happy then why not have a dozen or more?

Especially when they’re cheaper by the dozen?

But is the more the merrier or is quality preferable to quantity?

How many can you juggle before your little heaven turns into living hell?

 

I know the prejudice against large families, but one of my best and brightest

and most successful students came from an intact family of ten.

Franklin, Bach, Mendeleev, Shakespeare, Mozart all from large families.

But my parents didn’t do a very good job with only five.

Is OctoMom happy now with her enormous brood, or is she still lonely,

crying alone in the bathroom detesting herself and her angry neglected kids?

I was happy helping other people as a teacher, as a husband and father.

Does it take a village to raise a child or just personal responsibility?

Hope she can grow up and fix herself so she can raise those kids,

but it’s hard to put spilled milk back into jugs after it’s spilled.