Pardon me for the tardy post. While Poor Kyle is gone (having commandeered my laptop for use on the open road), I have been forced to do my daily computions (computations?) on his desktop iMac. Which is a lovely machine, only the office chair isn’t very comfortable. And his keyboard is stiff and consequently an un-inspiring piece of equipment; I have to push really firmly on e-a-c-h a-n-d e-v-e-r-y k-e-y to get the letters up on the screen. It’s hard.
On top of which, I have dedicated 15 of the past 30 hours to planting a garden. Sowing the seeds of summertime savours. [The 15 hours of solitary labour have left me waxing rather poetic, no?] At any rate, I was far too sore to sit at a desk for any extended period of time this morning–the only place I could have typed was from the comfort of my own bed. But without my laptop, that would have proven rather difficult. So I didn’t post.
But I have had a lot of time to think about today’s topic, and I’m pretty sure I’m right on the mark with this one.
The Duggar Family. Who here has heard of these 19 people, 17 of whom have exited one (read: 1) solitary woman’s body (with baby #18 on the way)? Anyone? I watched a two-hour special about them on Discovery Channel a few months ago one midnight when Poor Kyle was grinding his teeth so loudly I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know what I was trying to accomplish, though, because when the program was finished, I really couldn’t sleep. Kept waking up with horrible nightmares of myself being permanently dilated to a 10.
Fast forward to yesterday, when I saw recaps of this same family giving an interview on TODAY. I was reminded of my permanently-dilated nightmares, and after 15 hours of stewing over the Duggars, they’ve very nearly become a full-blown fascination.
There’s so much I would delightfully criticise about this family. Like the husband, Jim Bob, who goes by Jim Bob. Seriously. Why not scratch the “Bob?” Or heck, go crazy and lose the “Jim?” Of course, Jim Bob couldn’t drop the “Jim,” because then his name wouldn’t match all 17 of his childrens’ names: Joshua, Jana & John-David (twins), Jill, Jessa, Jinger, Joseph, Josiah, Joy-Anna, Jedidiah & Jeremiah (twins), Jason, James, Justin, Jackson, Johannah, and Jennifer.
The sad thing (well, one of many, I suppose), is that the mother’s name is…brace yourselves…Michelle. Michelle! I don’t know about you, but for me, being the only “M” in a sea of “Js” would be bothersome. Call me obsessive, but that dadgum “M” really gets on my nerves. If I were her, I’d probably need major Prozac™, for one. And also, I would go ahead and change my name to “Jichelle.” I mean, since they’re already taking so many other liberties. After all, they changed a “T” to a “J” to make up Jessa’s name, and a “G” to a “J” for poor Jinger, who must be awfully confused right about now.
Jichelle got married when she was 16 or 17 (I forget which, but one’s as bad as the other), and has been pregnant an estimated 135 months since then. One hundred thirty-five months. I cannot even imagine. They are a very spiritual bunch of people, praising God for his 17 blessings. That’s respectable, of course–it’s certainly not what I would be saying to the Good Lord if He saw fit to “bless” me so generously. But that’s beside the point.
I could have a field day with all of this. I could. I would like to say all these mean things about the Duggar family, but it’s difficult, because they seem like truly good people. They seem to value family matters and proper manners. They seem too decent to be criticised for their vast existence. They seem so…on national television, anyway, and we know how easily T.V. can be digitally remastered and formatted to fit your screen…
…but I’m intrigued. Here’s what I think: I think the Duggars need someone unbiased in their house (what’s one more human being, right?) for a few weeks–maybe even a month–to properly assess the situation. No film crew, just a single outsider to live like a Duggar, and then report to the rest of the world what it’s really like in there. And I think I’m just the person to do it. I am a spiritual person and would respect their beliefs, dig in and carry my weight around the house, befriend Jichelle (though I would have to schedule my one-on-one time with her, just like everybody else), and write about it. That way, the minds of Americans all across the country can be put to rest. People can decide, once and for all, if the Jim Bob, Jichelle, and their 17+ children are stalwart enough to make up for their astronomical carbon footprint.
Any newspapers looking for an ace field reporter to join the ranks? I’m ready for action, as long as the Duggars allow laptops into their barracks.
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