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I’ve decided that I want babies. 3 of them, to be exact. I want triplets, but I don’t want them to all look the same.
I’d like for one of my babies to be a Burtle. A little tiny baby Burtle. 50% Bear, 50% Turtle, 100% precious. He’d be my favorite. I’d spoil him like you wouldn’t believe. I’d buy him all sorts of cute little rattles and such. I’d hire a full-grown Elmo to be at his birthday party. I’d send him to private school so that he could be anything he wanted, like a doctor, or a congressman. I’d buy him the nicest blue bonnet that I could find at Baby’s-R-Us. I would call him Umberto my Little Pookie Wookie Burtle Baby.
I’d like for my second triplet to be a Mermaid baby. I would love my mermaid baby very much, just not quite as much as my precious little Burtle baby. I would be most pleased if my mermaid baby had little lobster claws for hands. I would send her to public school and encourage her to play tennis or to be on the debate team. I would go to her high-school graduation, but I would not stay until the end. I would discourage her from having surgery to separate her legs, making her more normal. I would tell her that if she did such a thing, that I would love her less. I would be so proud if she grew up to have a respectable job, like a manager at a yarn store, where she could cut the yarn with her lobster claws. I would buy her a bonnet from Target. I would call her Thelma the Mermaid Baby with Claws.
I would like for my third triplet to be normal. I would not like my normal baby one bit, and that’s the truth. I would neglect him and feed him discounted hamster food. I would dress him in raggedy torn overalls and make him carry around a pitchfork. I would tell him that if he shined Umberto’s shell, I would feed him porkchops. When my precious little Burtle’s shell was super-shiny, I would feed my normal baby Rabbit food. I would homeschool him, then not teach him anything. I would ask him to read things and then laugh at him along with Umberto and Thelma. His illiteracy would be the root of many jokes in my household. I would hire someone who slurred really badly to tutor him until he developed the same slur. This would make his attempts at reading even funnier than before. I would not buy him a bonnet. I would call him Zeek.
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