The Addams Family Comes Home

[embedyt]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IvjyjqYxKw[/embedyt]Marquel, TPVs NYTimes Offspring Section correspondent, was shaking some lost child to tears, when he stopped to read, The Trauma of Parenthood.

Millions of new mothers — and fathers — show signs of clinical depression. Times advises strongly AGAINST bearing children anytime soon. Marquel pondered this news. Despite the popular wisdom that couples with children have somehow found nirvana, it turns out this is actually popular idiocy. The most miserable people in the world are parents.

Marquel could understand this on a rational level. After all what you get is about two decades of gnashing your teeth. Then you die for sure. What kind of life is that? If you don’t die and live another twenty years the odds are the children will move back for that extra two decades. And even if you have no teeth left, twenty years of clenched jaws does not lower stress.

It used to be that you could beat the little devils. Research has shown that’s not good for the little devils. But nobody ever researched how the bad for the kids might have balanced out with increased happiness for the parents.

As Marquel read the article he learned that almost half of all mothers and a quarter of all fathers suffer from clinical depression after a newborn comes home. Who wouldn’t? Think about it. All infants do is produce waste. They are mobile waste producers and do NOTHING else for at least a year. The figures jibe with what Marquel has observed. It’s true that most babies are cute little things. Their heads bounce around like Bobble Heads and their limbs wave about like brain damaged primates. But more importantly, about a third of babies are butt ugly. They are flaming red, screaming bloody murder and resemble a tortured reptile with pockmarked skin and the look of an elder at a funeral. No wonder parents are clinically depressed. They expect Leave It To Beaver but get, instead, the Addams Family.

So if you’re expecting happiness, stop right now. You’d probably do better with a BMW, perhaps, or a small sailboat. You can still name it, just like a baby, but it will also be objectively beautiful, and will give years of pleasure. Don’t have a baby, says the Times, and Marquel had to go investigate to see if they were right.

I arranged for one of the researchers to set me up with a depressed father. He was Russian, named Ivan, which surprised me because Russians seem both stoic and tough. How could a seven pound baby clinically depress them?

“Ivan,” I remarked, “what was it about having a baby that made you so unhappy?”

“Where should I start?” He asked, “It’s like your life has ended. It’s just like death but instead of being buried you actually have to live in Hell for years.”

“Tell me some of the hellish things.” I said.

“First of all your life ends,” he answered.

I interrupted, “You already said that but in what way does it end?”

“Okay,” he said, “no more fun. No movies. No nights out. No nights in. By that I mean no sex. No more friends. A lot less money. A lot less room in the apartment. You have a smaller apartment but you’re paying the same rent. And then there’s….”

“Hold it,” I interrupted. “The baby. It’s your offspring. You’re continuing the line. Isn’t that worth it?”

“I don’t really know,” said Ivan, “it might grow up to be something. But right now it’s depressing enough to bring you to tears. I’ve never seen a baby so repellant. It looks like Bela Lugosi. Babies aren’t supposed to look like that are they?”

“I don’t really know,” I said, “but I thought parents adored their children no matter how ugly.”

“I think it depends upon how ugly. Bela Lugosi is too much.”

“It’s funny you say that because the Times had a funny qualification to this whole deal. They said mothers get depressed routinely but fathers do ‘if and only if they lived with the child.’ In other words, it’s having to look at the baby that is so unsettling.”

“Well,” said Ivan, “I don’t know how they worked that out. I have to admit it was my first thought, but who can afford to move out until the baby goes to college? It was a dream but only a dream.”

“Give me some more particulars,” I said.

“Changing,” he answered, “I don’t want all that shit in my house. Even a dog you walk outside. I tried that…”

I interrupted again, “You tried walking the baby?”

“Not real walking, but I held him up over the curb and figured he’d learn. But I almost got killed by a lady walking her own dogs. Said it was her space. I got a lot of dirty looks too.”

“Yeah I don’t think that will work,” I tried to agree.

“No,” he insisted, ” it does work in the early morning hours between about two and five. You can walk kids then. Such a relief….”

“So you’ve learned how to reduce the stress,” I commiserated.

“Not much really,” Ivan said, “my wife goes, ‘you what???’ like I’m a murderer or something.”

“How is your wife taking this?” I wondered.

“Oh, she cries a lot,” said Ivan.

“And you do what when that happens?” I questioned.

“Oh, I cry too,” he said, “I’m usually already crying when she starts bawling.”

“So what are you going to do about this?” I asked.

“My wife and I are discussing it.” He said. “But there’s not much we can do in her present condition.”

“Which is?” I wondered.

Ivan started sobbing. I repeated my question. His shoulders were shaking but he squeezed out two words. “She’s pregnant.”

***

BY MARQUEL: The Addams Family Comes Home