Sorry to go all Andy Rooney but, did you ever notice…
For the fathers out there with a bunch of kids, I have a question. Is it just me? Whenever I am out with my five kids someplace, a park, the store, or even church I get the question. You all know the question, but I am not interested in the question right now. I am interested in what comes after the question.
I am out somewhere with the kids and someone, typically another mother, will mosey on up and ask me with a disbelieving look “are they all yours?” The snark rolodex then whirs into frenetic motion trying to find just the right response. I could use Matt’s line about them actually being hitchhikers I picked up because I thought they looked so darn much like the others. I could make a remark about how I just have the young ones and the other ones are still at home school. I could give them the unblinking stare and ask them if I can share some literature with them. But instead I opt for brevity and respond “Uh huh.”
But then, then comes the part that gets me. More often than not I will get some variation on the following remark. “Your wife must be a saint.” Now the truth is that my wife is a saint. She has more patience than Job and the wisdom of Solomon, but how do they know that? Why don’t they ever say “You must be a saint?” For all they know my wife could have run off with K-fed six months ago, after all I am the one out with the kids. But no, she is the presumed saint and I am presumed to be on supervised visitation.
So I have decided to update my snark rolodex with some retorts to this derisive presumption. I thought that one clever response would be to suddenly break out in tears and ask the offender if they know my wife and if they have seen her lately as the kids miss her. But, being a guy, displays of such emotion are difficult for me. Then I thought that I could mumble something about how I truly believe she could be a saint one day, after she gets out of rehab … again. That was better, but still requires me to really sell it and frankly that takes too much energy, I am with the kids I remind you. Anyway, I have my new response at the ready the next time some unsuspecting soul tries to confer blind sainthood on my wife. Ready?
Hey, are all those yours?
Ummm, yes.
Wow. Your wife must be a …
YES! Yes she is. But the kids and I love her anyway.
August 21, 2009 at 6:06 pm
Sometimes I think that if I hear "You've got your hands full." one more time, I will weep. Like Sarah L, I try to take it in a good way unless it's obviously spoken in a snarky way. I usually say "Yes! Life is good!!!" and give a bright smile. I try to smile, especially if I'm in a bad mood or stressed out. Usually, the "I'm so happy that I'm giddy" smile makes them leave me alone.
I LOVE the "Yep, and they're all by the same father!" comment.
August 21, 2009 at 6:08 pm
My friend with 5 kids once had a man come up to him and say, "You're a very rich man."
That was a nice one. This was in Los Angeles, by the way.
August 21, 2009 at 6:16 pm
If your wife is a saint, more credit to you. After all, aren't we supposed to get each other to heaven? Yes, our family is one big saint-making machine. When asked if they are all mine, I usually reply that "God uses my children as therapy to deprogram the selfishness out of me. I obviously need more help in that area than you." It takes a while for them to process that comment, so they can't follow up with the "Why don't you buy a TV" comment.
August 21, 2009 at 7:12 pm
When informed of only our second pregnancy, my uncle said to us "You do know how that happens, right?" I replied, "Yes, and that's why we're just getting started!"
August 21, 2009 at 9:04 pm
#5 is due here in October. When I get remarks, I reply, "They keep me out of trouble." Very few have gotten the double-reference of "in trouble."
I saw a woman with a newborn daughter and two older sons at the pediatrician not too long ago. Dad was there, too. "Will you have more?" I asked her.
"No, he's gettin' fixed!" she said with conviction.
"But… he's not broken," I said.
"See?" the father said, agreeing with me.
When asked if we know what we're doing, I say, "Yep, and we're GOOD at it! It's those folks who only have one or two I wonder about."
I get tired of the homeschooling remarks, too.
August 21, 2009 at 10:50 pm
William those are PERFECT responses in my opinion.
And Heather, right on!
As far as mom's shirt- a lot of people thought it was fun. A couple people were nasty jerks- but atleast we didn't have to answer a stupid question.
August 22, 2009 at 5:35 am
This comment has been removed by the author.
August 22, 2009 at 5:40 am
When the wife was pregnant with #2 I was asked by our office manager if there would be any more since I'm an "older father" (I REALLY hate that term!). With a deadpan face I said my ambition was to keep going long enough that my youngest would be getting out of diapers at the same time I was going back into them.
She believed me.
Unfortunately we had to stop at three. Now I just deal with the "isn't it cute to see the children out with grandpa" comments.
For some reason I always remembering we're allowed the concealed carrying of firearms here in Texas.
August 22, 2009 at 3:45 pm
I shared this with my mom and she had a few suggestions:
Most successful: "I've met a lot of [older] women who wish they had had one more. I've never met any who wish they had one less."
"My kids will be paying your social security." – for people who treat you like a public burden.
To "You have your hands full." :
"Well, we put the bad ones out on the curb on Tuesday."
If you're out with not all of your children and you get the "are they all yours" question, you canalways say, "No, the other (X- three, 15, 97) are at home/college/grown up/etc."
"Right now the score is boys-3, girls-5." Possible extension: "We just don't know what inning it is."
To the "You must be busy/tired/etc." :
"I don't know anybody who thinks they have enough time or enough money."
~my Mom (soon to be blogging as ImpriMater) courtesy Nzie
August 23, 2009 at 4:51 pm
Wow, there's a lot of awesome comments here.
I still can't believe this is such an issue in our culture, but maybe I've been Catholic for too long.
Also, "But he's not broken!"
I especially like "We put bad ones to the curb on Tuesday," cause it really is like these people are treating kids like a commodity. And the last is true too. How many people have you met that regret how many kids they have versus how much money they have?
Looking forward to your Mom joining the blogging world, Nzie!
August 23, 2009 at 8:11 pm
I only have 3 kids and was shocked by the "you have your hands full" comment. My response is "Yes, they are full of blessings!"
My children were adopted, so I could go on and on about the rude comments we get. I use to be insulted, but now see it as a way to educate people about the beauty of adoption.
God Bless you and your wife for being open to life!
August 24, 2009 at 3:30 am
My grandmother said in response to a family member upset with her having yet another child (she had nine), "I cannot resist him." It silenced the criticism and I'm grateful for all my aunts and uncles.
As the mother of 9, I've been asked "WHY" and "Are you done done?" I am loving all these responses.
What I love is people saying, "What are you doing for yourself?" No one asks my husband that same question.
August 24, 2009 at 5:17 pm
When people say the obvious "Wow you must be busy!" to me, I usually respond, "Yeah, but it keeps me out of trouble", and then I walk away laughing at the confused expression on their faces…God has a great sense of humor, why shouldn't I laugh alongside him? Hehehe
When I'm getting a bad vibe from people sometimes (not too often, but on occasion), and they'll say "Wow, you have your hands full", I break out the fortune cookie response of "Better to have full hands than an empty heart." That usually shuts them up with a scowl.
We're there to witness, right? But we're really there as Franciscans with our families: to preach often and when necessary to use words.
August 24, 2009 at 5:18 pm
A really fun one that I liked was from my friend's mom. When my friend was younger, and they saw an immodest woman in public, her mother would lean over and whisper (rather loudly I might add) "Isn't it a shame that that woman was too poor to afford clothes!" My friend was shocked when she went shopping for clothing later on in life that they price tag on that supposedly "poor person's clothes" was actually more expensive!