Wishful Thinking

I want to be in a children’s book.

I don’t mean star in one. I don’t mean get my name mentioned. I mean live in one.

I’d like to be a blue dog that drives a car or a bear that talks or a rabbit that wears cute vests and ballet slippers. I’d like to live in a world where it’s ok for moms to go out for a bit and leave the children under the care of a Rottweiler. I’d like to see where insects talk – where hungry caterpillars get fed and lonely spiders make friends. I’d like to hang out in that great green room with the red balloon and giant fireplace. Who has a bedroom that big and cozy?

I’d like to spend a few decades where animals wear clothes and monsters have playdates. Where things are warm and safe and colorful, and the biggest worries are fear of the dark, a rainy day, not wanting to go to bed and wondering how much, exactly, I am loved.

I want to live in a world where problems get fixed in twenty pages or less. Where everyone feels good at the end, even a grouchy ladybug.

Where beings of various sizes, shapes, species, colors and nationalities converse reasonably.

Where bullies learn.

Where being different is okay, even rewarded. Where bears nap in mittens. Where green eggs and ham taste good. Where builders get the job done - with just the help of their cheerful tools.

Where things don’t have to make sense as long as they rhyme. Where it's ok to not know who your mother is. And where time passes - but only until you come back again.

I’d like to live in a children’s book.

For now, I’ll have to pretend.

The Conversation That Never Happens

INT. SLEEK HIGH RISE OFFICE BUILDING
Two men, late thirty-ish or forty-something, face one another across a giant desk in an impressive office. The wood is cherry, the lighting expensive, the work vague and profitable and the coffee, brought by a good-looking, young female assistant.

BOB
Well Steve, you’ve had a great quarter, and I just wanted to check in to see how you’re feeling.

STEVE
(enthusiastically patting his belly)
I actually have a lot more energy this trimester, Bob. Which is surprising, since I was sick as a dog the first three months. Heh.

BOB
(chuckling)
I remember. You sprinted for the men’s room in the middle of the Dyson briefing. That was embarrassing.

STEVE
Don’t remind me! Anyway, I’m feeling great now. No need to slow down yet until the baby’s born.
(He suppresses an ugly burp)
Sorry about that.

BOB
Yes. Well, that’s what we wanted to talk to you about.

STEVE
“We?”

BOB
Well, it’s only me in the room of course, but I have to use the proverbial “royal we” when speaking on behalf of the company.

STEVE
Oh. Right.

BOB
(affably)
Otherwise you could potentially sue me personally for saying something mildly politically incorrect, you know, in your current, ah, “state.”

STEVE
Well, Bob, I’m here for the company, and if you need me during the first few weeks of the baby’s life, then I’m here too. Phone, email, you name it. I’m your man.

BOB
That’s great of you, Steve.
(sensing an opening)
So let me ask you, what are your thoughts on actually coming back after the baby?

STEVE
(a bit taken aback)
Well, I do plan to come right back to work full time after three months.

BOB
But won’t you be tired? What about the breastfeeding schedule? What about sleep deprivation – have you thought about all that? Everything changes after a baby, you know.

STEVE
I’m sure I can manage. I’ve multi-tasked before. Jen and I have discussed it.

BOB
And how does…Jen feel?

STEVE
She wants me to do what makes me happy, and what’s best for the family.

BOB
And you have a nanny lined up? Daycare? Maybe your father can help out?

STEVE
I’m interviewing people and visiting childcare centers now. I have picked a pediatrician. I’ve also pre-registered for swimming and music classes. They say that’s important.

BOB
I’m sure. You’re a busy guy, Steve-o. I don’t know how you do it.

STEVE
I try to make things easy for Jen. She works hard. One of us has to take the lead on the home front. I’m sure I can manage it all once the baby is born.

BOB
Well, you might change your mind when the little one arrives. We’ve seen it before.

STEVE
Again with the “we…”

Bob
Just calling ‘em as I see ‘em, Steve-o.

BOB
(a bit defensive now)
Well, there’s no need to worry about me. Millions of men do it every day, right?

BOB
(unconvincingly)
Right.
(an awkward pause as the good looking assistant arrives with more coffee)Well, nice chatting with you, Steve. Keep me posted on the delivery, and if you need anything, just let Kathleen here know. I couldn’t find a piece of HR paperwork if my life depended on it.