More Than Three Kids: Am I A Zealot or Whore? A Quiz

BlogHer Original Post
Portrait of a three generation family sitting on steps

Evidently, my family planning has become a matter of public concern. I had thought for some time that it was just between Bryan and me, with a little divine direction here and there. But there is overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

Total strangers have seen me with my five children and have asked -– right in front of them –- whether they were all planned. They have asked how many I actually wanted, as though surely I have a few I could stand to part with. They have asked me with grave looks of caution whether I am (finally, for godsakes, please) done. In moments of uncanny wit, they have even asked whether I understand where babies come from.

Apparently, when you cross the threshold of the Socially Acceptable Number of Three Children, your judgment really must be called into question. I think at the heart of every intrusive comment is the burning question, “Is she a religious fanatic or a huge slut?” And I’m never quite sure which answer The Inquisitor walks away with, or even which is preferable.

So I’ve devised a little quiz to hand out the next time someone is struggling to figure it all out:

1. “Were all five planned?”

A. Yes, (eyes squinched shut, hands upstreched to heaven) planned by God!  

B. No, we just have sex, like, every three and a half minutes, so, you know, the odds are good.

2. “How many kids did you want?”

A. (Whipping out Psalm 127:4-5 with great gusto.) A whole quiver full!

B. I didn’t really want any, but it’s just so darn hard to keep my legs crossed.

3.  “Are you done?”

A. No way! I’m going to keep having babies as long as God lets me!

B. No way! I’m going to keep having babies as long as my husband sleeps with me!

4. “You do know how this keeps happening, don’t you?”

A. I think it has something to do with begetting ...

B. I think it has something to do with bedding ...

Answer Key:

If I answer all As, watch out -– I will probably try to convert you. If I answer all Bs, watch out -– I will probably try to sleep with you. And if I answer you with a slap upside your nosy little head, it’s probably because it’s none of your damn business.

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