Welcome to the KingZoo and Funny Farm, where we learn to live, laugh, and love together. Here you'll find snippets of life in our zoo, parenting tips we've learned along the way, reflections on shining God's light in this world, passions in the realm of orphan care, and our journey as parents of a visually impaired child with sensory processing disorder. Have fun!
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Poor guy thought he had found it when he said, "Oh, I see your email is we5kings."
"Well, actually that's our old email address."
Not ready to give up that easily, he continued, "That must mean that you have 3 children. That's wonderful."
"Well, actually, as I said. That's an old email address. We have seven children."
Long pause. "Seven? Oh. You must be very busy."
That's what everyone says as soon as they find out how many children we have. They act as if it's some freak of nature or something.
I can never understand when someone suggests that we have a large family. I don't get it. Large is Duggar-ish; not seven-ish. In fact, we're not even half-way there.
But there are times when I do begin to wonder...
Like when the serviceman comes for a house call and looking around my home, asks, "Do you run a daycare?"
Or when I go to the grocery store for the third time in the week, not because I haven't already bought all of my groceries, but because I couldn't possibly fit all of the milk for the week in our refrigerator. I have to make three trips a week, buying 3 gallons each time.
And speaking of the grocery store, the bagger once accused me of buying too much bread when there were no blizzards in the forecast. Until I told him that I had seven children. Then he asked if he should go get me some more.
When the waitress at the restaurant thought we were hosting a birthday party.
Like when the librarian comments on the number of books we have checked out. It is a family card, right?
Or when people pass our van on the highway, pointing inside and laughing.
When we're at a state or national park and it's cheaper to buy the family season pass than day passes for each of us.
The hardest to handle is that our county deems our family too large to continue to do foster care. It seems to me it should be more dependent on the room in your house and the love in your heart; not a number.
But tax time is made a little nicer by our brood. And we could always move to a different state ...