Family Guy (Not the TV show)

I come from a fairly large family, and when I say family, I mean my immediate family. Not uncles or aunts, cousins and what have you. I come from a family of two parents and six kids. I’ve always broken my siblings into two parts, the older ones and the younger ones. My folks had three kids in just less than four years. Starting in 1978 and ending with the arrival of me in 1982. 1978 is my eldest brother, then along came my sister in 1981 followed closely by little ‘ol me in 1982. I fine year indeed, Spielberg made E.T and Eye of the Tiger by Survivor was the number one song of the year (with Down Under by Men at Work hot on its heels!).

That’s the line up the family toured with for about nine years until the accidental arrival of my first little brother in 1991. Don’t read in shock and horror when I say ‘accidental’ my folks have no problem admitting we were all inadvertent by-products of sexy times. The old man went on a sexual hiatus for six years until he and Mum had another ‘accident’ (By now you’d think they would have learnt) and brought forth my third brother, then came along the sixth and final member of the clan in 2001. I feel honoured and privileged to be a member of an exclusive society spanning over four decades.

Now, the most interesting part is how different we all are. I honestly believe that if you were to put us all in a room, not even a genealogy grad student would be able to tell that we are family. Not just aesthetically, but also personality. We are six very different people, with six very different opinions, which makes for great conversations over Sunday roast.

I won’t talk too much about my family, mostly for their own privacy, and secondly because two of my kinfolk probably wouldn’t like to be talked about in such a public forum (If any of you five siblings of mine are reading this, right now you’re trying to work out who I’m talking about no doubt).

Instead, I’ll touch on my own feelings about starting a family. Do men get clucky? Because I would really like a child, I think kids are great, more so, if they are your kids. In my early, mid and late twenties I didn’t put much thought into rearing children (minds out of the gutter) but in the past six months or so I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Of course, my family plan has a myriad of holes in it, primarily the fact I am single. Also, now that I have made this public announcement, I can see women running as far away from me as possible, thinking I’ll be the one poking holes into the contraceptive. All is not lost however, if my desire to spawn a little person doesn’t happen, I think I would be just as content to join the Big Brother program and partake in this rent-a-kid scheme.

~INTERMISSION~

I’m off to get a haircut tonight. I enjoy a good haircut, the only issue I have with the entire process is the conversations that I am drawn into with my hairdresser. She’s a nice enough girl, and cuts my hair exceptionally well, but she is one of these people that believe in conspiracy theories, government plots and all other sorts of shit you see on The X Files. I have no problem with other people having a hobby or an interest, but what I do have an issue with is someone trying to talk me into believing our government is secretly micro chipping us every time we donate blood. It takes about 20-25 minutes for a standard men’s haircut, you’d be surprised how many wild stories she can concoct in this time. Now that I think about it, maybe I shouldn’t be letting her so close to my head with sharp scissors. Am I alone in this? Do you have a similar situation? Maybe you get stuck talking to your bizarre neighbour or get caught in a circular conversation with your dentist. Are you polite and just agree with these crack pots? Or do you voice your opinion? Let me know, I want to know how everyone else reacts when they get wedged in a conversation they want no part of.  

Until next time,

-Chris

Oliver says 'I'D LOVE TO HAVE CHILDREN IF SOMEONE HADN'T HAD ME FIXED'