Commentary > Editorials
Dr. Love Delivers Octuplets Advice
By Frank Diamond, For The Bulletin
“First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes FILL IN EIGHT NAMES in baby carriages.”
Every once in a while a current event blows through society that relationship counselors just can’t duck. You may have heard about the octuplets in California.
However, I am getting ahead of myself. Good morning relationship experts. Welcome to Philadelphia and our symposium, “The Many Shades of Love.” An apropos title for an event taking place right before Valentine’s Day, no?
My moniker is “Dr. Love,” and I write a syndicated relationship advice column called “Love Conquers All.” I’ll gladly autograph my collection, which you can buy in the lobby after lunch for $23.79. (Cheap!) For now, though, let me reach into my mailbag to give you an idea of just how big the ripples from this octuplets splash might be.
Dear Dr. Love: I am in a fine Valentine’s Day pickle. Understand that I love kids. Why, one of the first things I tell my fiancée, Lulu, is, “I think two kids is nice. Maybe three.”
She says, “It’s really incredible when you think about it.”
“What?”
“That woman out in California who gave birth to eight babies.”
“I think she’s unbalanced,” I say.
Lulu nods and I am feeling relieved.
She says, “Who would want to give birth to that many babies?”
“Exactly.” I’m thinking about a five-inch sparrow laying a 10-inch egg. Ouch!
She says, “I mean at once,” and I nearly choke.
I recover and say, “How about them Phillies?”
She says, “Do you know what I really like about baseball? There are nine players on the field.” Then she starts humming “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”
Dr. Love, I may not be the most astute fellow in the Delaware Valley, but I’d say that Lulu and I are failing to communicate. What should I do?
Baffled in Berwyn
Dear Baffled: Love conquers all! I always say that the three things you need to do to maintain a healthy relationship are “communicate, communicate, communicate.” Either that or “deny, deny, deny.” Anyway, you need to be especially sensitive to your fianceé’s feelings as you tell her that nine kids is about an infield more than you were hoping for.
Take her out to your special place for Valentine’s Day. Make it romantic: Throw in some candlelight, flowers. Tell her you love her. No, explain to her that you loooooove her! Then, unfurl a spreadsheet that delineates just how much money parents spend per child per lifetime.
Whatever you do, keep her away from football (11 players on the field!). If she starts singing “Fly, Eagles, Fly,” you’re cooked.
Dear Dr. Love: My husband’s a smart, quiet and gentle fellow who works as an accountant. I always wished he had more ambition but basically I know I’m blessed.
We had a baby last year and the joy on my husband’s face in the delivery room is something I will never forget. Right after the birth, he joked: “Let’s have another right away.”
I said, “I’d like to scratch your face off.” (Just kidding!)
The other day he said, “Imagine.”
“What, honey?”
Then he told me about the octuplets in California and how the mother already had six kids at home.
“Fourteen children,” he said, shaking his head.
“What was she thinking?” I said.
“She was thinking about unmitigated power.”
I said, “Come again?” but this strange glow had come into his eyes.
“I could call myself the Great Father and we’d move to a farmhouse in the Midwest. Every Sunday I’d hold chapel in the barn and the children would chant, ‘Oh Great Father, cleanse us.’ We’d be our own little community. Our own church. Our own country. Our own dimension.”
I didn’t get too nervous until I noticed the twitching around the eyes and the foam at the corner of his lips. Dr. Love, I have a small request: Help!
Overwhelmed in Overbrook
Dear Overwhelmed: Love conquers all! Stop complaining. Look at what you have. You have a man more than willing to make a commitment. He’s definitely the sort of fellow who’ll stay at the compound, er, I mean home, at nights. You worried that he never showed much ambition. Wanting to be the founder of a new religion seems pretty ambitious to me.
Speaking of ambition, my new goal is to produce my own reality television show. I’m thinking of calling it, “That Zany, Zappy Cult!” I know I can count on your support.
Frank Diamond can be reached at fpdiamond@yahoo.com.
Every once in a while a current event blows through society that relationship counselors just can’t duck. You may have heard about the octuplets in California.
However, I am getting ahead of myself. Good morning relationship experts. Welcome to Philadelphia and our symposium, “The Many Shades of Love.” An apropos title for an event taking place right before Valentine’s Day, no?
My moniker is “Dr. Love,” and I write a syndicated relationship advice column called “Love Conquers All.” I’ll gladly autograph my collection, which you can buy in the lobby after lunch for $23.79. (Cheap!) For now, though, let me reach into my mailbag to give you an idea of just how big the ripples from this octuplets splash might be.
Dear Dr. Love: I am in a fine Valentine’s Day pickle. Understand that I love kids. Why, one of the first things I tell my fiancée, Lulu, is, “I think two kids is nice. Maybe three.”
She says, “It’s really incredible when you think about it.”
“What?”
“That woman out in California who gave birth to eight babies.”
“I think she’s unbalanced,” I say.
Lulu nods and I am feeling relieved.
She says, “Who would want to give birth to that many babies?”
“Exactly.” I’m thinking about a five-inch sparrow laying a 10-inch egg. Ouch!
She says, “I mean at once,” and I nearly choke.
I recover and say, “How about them Phillies?”
She says, “Do you know what I really like about baseball? There are nine players on the field.” Then she starts humming “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”
Dr. Love, I may not be the most astute fellow in the Delaware Valley, but I’d say that Lulu and I are failing to communicate. What should I do?
Baffled in Berwyn
Dear Baffled: Love conquers all! I always say that the three things you need to do to maintain a healthy relationship are “communicate, communicate, communicate.” Either that or “deny, deny, deny.” Anyway, you need to be especially sensitive to your fianceé’s feelings as you tell her that nine kids is about an infield more than you were hoping for.
Take her out to your special place for Valentine’s Day. Make it romantic: Throw in some candlelight, flowers. Tell her you love her. No, explain to her that you loooooove her! Then, unfurl a spreadsheet that delineates just how much money parents spend per child per lifetime.
Whatever you do, keep her away from football (11 players on the field!). If she starts singing “Fly, Eagles, Fly,” you’re cooked.
Dear Dr. Love: My husband’s a smart, quiet and gentle fellow who works as an accountant. I always wished he had more ambition but basically I know I’m blessed.
We had a baby last year and the joy on my husband’s face in the delivery room is something I will never forget. Right after the birth, he joked: “Let’s have another right away.”
I said, “I’d like to scratch your face off.” (Just kidding!)
The other day he said, “Imagine.”
“What, honey?”
Then he told me about the octuplets in California and how the mother already had six kids at home.
“Fourteen children,” he said, shaking his head.
“What was she thinking?” I said.
“She was thinking about unmitigated power.”
I said, “Come again?” but this strange glow had come into his eyes.
“I could call myself the Great Father and we’d move to a farmhouse in the Midwest. Every Sunday I’d hold chapel in the barn and the children would chant, ‘Oh Great Father, cleanse us.’ We’d be our own little community. Our own church. Our own country. Our own dimension.”
I didn’t get too nervous until I noticed the twitching around the eyes and the foam at the corner of his lips. Dr. Love, I have a small request: Help!
Overwhelmed in Overbrook
Dear Overwhelmed: Love conquers all! Stop complaining. Look at what you have. You have a man more than willing to make a commitment. He’s definitely the sort of fellow who’ll stay at the compound, er, I mean home, at nights. You worried that he never showed much ambition. Wanting to be the founder of a new religion seems pretty ambitious to me.
Speaking of ambition, my new goal is to produce my own reality television show. I’m thinking of calling it, “That Zany, Zappy Cult!” I know I can count on your support.
Frank Diamond can be reached at fpdiamond@yahoo.com.
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