Theoretical Urchins (Redux)
Originally published on my tumble blog
Walter’s friend Max announced over coffee one morning that he “wanted to have children as soon as possible.”
“Have you considered a hobby?”
“Walter I’m serious.” Max was always serious and Earnest, at least he had been since his divorce. Before his divorce Max had been a bit too cocky and even a little condescending, especially with strangers. Now he was finding meaning in everything and furthermore he was sharing all his new found insight, at the most inopportune times, like when Walter was trying to enjoy a nice cup of coffee while scanning the paper. Reading the paper had become all but worthless what with all the newsfeeds Walter collected on his phone and at work on his laptop. But he still felt that if he got to the paper first thing in the morning it superseded that river of information in his pocket, that the paper still mattered. Besides he liked reading the local obits. There were always good stories.
And now Max had screwed that up for the day.
Walter set down his paper and took a sip from his Tall Ethiopian (2 sugars). It was still bone melting-ly hot and made his tongue go numb. The coffee shop was still relatively empty at 7:15 a.m and Walter was still hoping to catch a glimpse of the new schoolteacher from down the block who always wore interesting footwear. But he had to shut Max up first so that he could concentrate.
“Tell me brother Max, what will you do with these “theoretical urchins” once your mighty seed has loosed them upon the world?”
“I will teach them about life. I will teach them all the things my father didn’t teach me.”
“Uh huh.” Max’s eyes were actually starting to mist which meant “another laborious soliloquy” was seconds from birth, in which Max would get extremely earnest and tortuously long-winded.. and Walter thought for sure that he’d caught a glimpse of the jaunty schoolmarm approaching from about a block away.
Time was of the essence.
“Okay Max, you are going to give life lessons.”
“Yes.”
“To your children.”
“Yes.”
“To balance the cosmic scales of the deficit your father left you.”
“Well, … yes.”
“Max, do you see the contradiction here? How do you teach something you haven’t learned?”
Walter’s morning was saved. Max was plunged into a dark reverie that would take him hours of silent contemplation to unravel. And Walter got to spend two and a half glorious minutes admiring the many facets of a pair of toe-less slingbacks with a severely precarious heel.
Comments
Coming from 'the expert', my view of having children. No 1 was wonderful;
No 2 was God-given; No 3 felt like two infielders who forgot to catch the ball:
"I thought YOU had it!" . In retrospect I would not trade ANY of them for the
world.