The Banophernalian March 2001

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I didn't feel like writing anything this month. Life hasn't been funny. I was pretty bummed out if you want to know. It was to the point where I was tempted to use the lazy man's communicative tools: Cuss words. Powerful and offensive words like fudge, shoot, and dang it.

You see my wife is expecting our third child this summer. Ordinarily this would be a cause for celebration and cigar smoking. But I'll admit to a recent bought of paranoia. I blame the media. Radio in particular - AM radio. When I was a kid AM radio played music. Now all it's good for is talk radio. Station after station of thought provoking pot stirring arm-chair yokels who know about as much about navel gazing as the captain of the USS Greeneville.

So anyway I was in the car listening to the radio. Some guy was going on about paternity tests and spouting off about all these children who are being raised by parents who think they're their parents but aren't. My wife was sitting beside me in the car. The two kids stuck in the back seat. My kids. My family. Really?

A little black seed of doubt. Really? How could I be sure? Then I had it, all I had to do was have my wife tested to see if she really is the mother of my children. Ah, it was so simple and reasurring. I reached over and patted her tummy smiled and turned off the radio.

Jevster
March 2001

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In One Eye - Out the Other

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