
Emily Jane is doing well. Evenings have been a bit rough with some gas and crying, but she usually smoothes out by 11:00. Yesterday, E.J. and her mom went on their first adventure…a reading and book signing with Greg Mortenson, author of Three Cups of Tea at Agnes Scott. Emily Jane slept in a sling and most people didn’t even know Cindy had a baby with her. Mortenson is a humanitarian who works to establish schools in remote areas of Afghanistan and Pakistan, particularly for girls. In some places it is illegal for girls to go to school.
Speaking of illegal.
Should we have to have a license to procreate? Don’t panic, I’m not going all red-china population control on you or anything. But having and raising a child is much more difficult than other things I have to have a license for. Driving, hunting, or fishing. And of all the millions of things that need permits, no permit is needed to add a person to the world. It requires nothing of anyone but fertile loins to bring children into this world. Of course, this is all just coming out of my fear of not being a good parent or doing something out of sheer ignorance like butt medicine in E.J.’s mouth.
But I do have a recommendation, as radical as it may be, to the food and drug administration. I propose every infant boy receive a surgically placed valve in his little seminal vesicles and this valve is switched to “off.” You know we have the technology. The inventors of the vasectomy reversal, nano tech robots and the makers of the iphone could have a prototype in a week. When all little boys become men, say at 25 or so, they can go have their little valves turned to “on” at their doctor’s office. There wouldn’t be any test of intelligence (against Cindy’s opinion), or common sense, or financial fitness exam, or anything else that might seem Gatica like. Men, simply by reaching the age of 25, could get a license of procreate. And E.J.’s dad would sleep much better.