I went to the dentist last week and when it was my turn to have my teeth cleaned, the energetic
23-year old hygienist made small talk as she prepped the room for x-rays.
“Your husband was just in here and he told me you guys have six kids?" the young woman said.
"Yes, we do," I answered.
I braced myself for a potential battery of inappropriate questions or statements or both. Anytime I go anywhere these days, someone somewhere has an opinion about my family size. I've learned responding to these opinionated strangers is an art form and almost always requires a prayer.
I sent up a silent, “Come, Holy Spirit” and waited for the woman to continue.
"Whew," she said. "Better you than me."
"Why do you say that?"
"I'm the oldest of six kids and I'm
having that many," she answered.
I giggled because yeah, I know.
Six kids can be a lot.
"No, seriously, I mean it,” she said again. “I'm never having six children.”
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