the Don't Make Babies Talk
The other day, I was hanging out on the patio reading a book and listening to old school r&b and reading when my brother came outside with one of his best friends. Somehow we got to talking about girls (I think I asked his friend, who I've known since he was a wee tot, if he had one) when the conversation steered toward babies and the making of.
"So have Mom and Dad had the Don't Make Babies Talk with you yet?" I asked.
"Huh? No! What are you talking about? They never talk about that kind of stuff with me!" my brother replied.
"What?! They had that talk with me like 8 times a week when I was with [Ms. X]. What the hell?" I looked over at his friend and explained, "See, Filipinos are unbelievably and tragically fertile. If a Filipino boy does so much as look at a Filipina girl lustily, 9 months later POP! -- out comes a baby."
"I guess they were waiting for you to talk to me about it," ventured my bro.
"True, they are always doing that..." I said thoughtfully. "Well, then now is the time."
"[Brother], this family would be very unhappy if you were to make babies. NO MAKING BABIES. I've waited this long to bring it up because you've never seem particularly into any of your girlfriends. But there isn't a second nowadays that you aren't either with your girl or on the phone with her. So, yeah. NO MAKING BABIES!"
My brother waited a moment before replying. "Is that it?" he asked.
"Yeah. I'm glad we could have this talk."
A few days later, I was in the bathroom clipping my nails before I left for salsa when the bro's girlfriend came in.
"Is it okay if I use the mirror?" she asked.
"Be my guest," I said. She leaned forward and began to apply lotion to her face, which was red and shiny like an apple.
After a moment of silence, I said, "Hey, do you mind if we have a little talk?" She looked at me out of the corner of her eye, her hands slowing.
"Uh...sure?"
"Good. This won't take long." I brushed a clipping from my pants. "I just wanted to let you know that this family would be very unhappy if you were to make babies. SO NO MAKING BABIES, okay?"
If possible, she flushed even redder than before. "Um...okay." She began rushing her lotioning.
After an awkward (for her) pause, I asked, "So what's up with the lotion?"
"I got sunburned pretty bad. It hurts."
"I see. Were you swimming or something?"
"No. I was just suntanning, but I was too lazy to put on sunblock," she replied.
"I see. So you're telling me that you were too lazy to use protection, and something bad happened, huh?"
There was a pregnant silence as she processed the implications of my question.
"Allow me to reiterate: THIS FAMILY WOULD NOT BE HAPPY IF YOU MADE BABIES."
Clip. I finished my pinkie and stood up, brushing my hands over the trashcan. I patted her shoulder as I slipped by.
"I'm glad we could have this talk."
"So have Mom and Dad had the Don't Make Babies Talk with you yet?" I asked.
"Huh? No! What are you talking about? They never talk about that kind of stuff with me!" my brother replied.
"What?! They had that talk with me like 8 times a week when I was with [Ms. X]. What the hell?" I looked over at his friend and explained, "See, Filipinos are unbelievably and tragically fertile. If a Filipino boy does so much as look at a Filipina girl lustily, 9 months later POP! -- out comes a baby."
"I guess they were waiting for you to talk to me about it," ventured my bro.
"True, they are always doing that..." I said thoughtfully. "Well, then now is the time."
"[Brother], this family would be very unhappy if you were to make babies. NO MAKING BABIES. I've waited this long to bring it up because you've never seem particularly into any of your girlfriends. But there isn't a second nowadays that you aren't either with your girl or on the phone with her. So, yeah. NO MAKING BABIES!"
My brother waited a moment before replying. "Is that it?" he asked.
"Yeah. I'm glad we could have this talk."
A few days later, I was in the bathroom clipping my nails before I left for salsa when the bro's girlfriend came in.
"Is it okay if I use the mirror?" she asked.
"Be my guest," I said. She leaned forward and began to apply lotion to her face, which was red and shiny like an apple.
After a moment of silence, I said, "Hey, do you mind if we have a little talk?" She looked at me out of the corner of her eye, her hands slowing.
"Uh...sure?"
"Good. This won't take long." I brushed a clipping from my pants. "I just wanted to let you know that this family would be very unhappy if you were to make babies. SO NO MAKING BABIES, okay?"
If possible, she flushed even redder than before. "Um...okay." She began rushing her lotioning.
After an awkward (for her) pause, I asked, "So what's up with the lotion?"
"I got sunburned pretty bad. It hurts."
"I see. Were you swimming or something?"
"No. I was just suntanning, but I was too lazy to put on sunblock," she replied.
"I see. So you're telling me that you were too lazy to use protection, and something bad happened, huh?"
There was a pregnant silence as she processed the implications of my question.
"Allow me to reiterate: THIS FAMILY WOULD NOT BE HAPPY IF YOU MADE BABIES."
Clip. I finished my pinkie and stood up, brushing my hands over the trashcan. I patted her shoulder as I slipped by.
"I'm glad we could have this talk."