A Bullet Dodged

Last night, I watched a movie with my husband,  which of course means that he put something on the TV that we both watched over the top of our laptops.  Side by side, him working and me chatting on Facebook.  It’s the new romance.

I IM’d for a while with an old boyfriend from college.  He thinks of me as the one that got away and I think of him as the bullet dodged.  He’s a nice guy, but it would not have ended well.  I knew that at the age of 18 and put an end to it while we could still be good enough friends to, 17 years later, chat on Facebook.  He’s now the divorced father of two boys and dating a 22 year old.  I think his life is kinda sad.  I’m the married mother of 6 children.  He thinks my life is insane.

He teased me for a bit about all of those babies and said, “If I had married you, my mother would love you.  She wants more grandbabies. But I tell her that 2 is all she gets from me.”

“You never know.” I told him.  ” The right girl could come along.  You could remarry, and she could convince you to have more babies.  Think how happy your mama would be.”  (Isn’t it sad that the 22 year old chippy living in his house isn’t even a consideration in his future plans?  He freely admits that she’s Miss Right Now.)

He went on to tell me that he was never having another baby.  They’re too expensive.  How were we going to send all of these children to college?  “The Computer Guy and I paid for ourselves to go to college.” I answered.  “You appreciate most what you earn for yourself.   We’ll help, but they have to do it themselves.  One word.  Scholarships.”

He was unconvinced and then stated flat out that it was impossible to give enough love and attention to that many children.  I laughed out loud.  How many were too many to love, I asked.  “7” he replied.
We argued good naturedly back and forth a bit more.  Neither of us giving an inch, but enjoying the sparring. 

“You should have been a lawyer.” He told me at one point.  “You almost have me convinced that you’re not crazy.”

“I should have been a lot of things,” I told him, “but this is what I’ve chosen.”

“What is your profession? Breeding?” He asked sarcastically.

“No,” I told him. “I’ve chosen to be the Mother of Nations. We will populate the Earth.”

I could tell he didn’t get it, so (being the nerd I am) I did a little math for him.  “If our children have babies at the same rate that we do, you will have 4 grandchildren and I will have 36.  If we keep it going you will have 16 great-great grandchildren and I will have 1296.  A few more generations and my decedents can touch every corner of the globe.”

There was a long pause on his end, then he wistfully replied, “I would have liked to have had a little girl.”