Dear Adam and Eve
December 1, 2003
I, for one, have never found myself longing for the good old days in the Garden of Eden. So far as I can tell, there wasn't a heck of a lot to do there. At least if you're in jail, you've got company and maybe TV privileges. If you're stuck on a desert island, you can always hope to be rescued. But Adam, it seems to me, was like a guy sentenced to life at a bankrupt resort.
So, naturally, he did what any of us would do in his situation. He complained to the Tour Director. Where, he demanded to know, were the tennis courts? Where was the driving range? And what about the volleyball games and the sing-alongs and the wienie roasts? Figuring that in the long run it was cheaper than flying in six more guys to get a poker game going, the Lord sent Adam a woman.
Now, anybody over the age of nine knows that the Bible tends to be evasive in parts -- transforming X-rated material into wholesome family fare through the use of parables and euphemisms. It's pretty doggone obvious, though, that when you've got a healthy young couple running around loose, the primary concern of the management isn't going to be their diet. Obviously, the Landlord didn't give them the old heave-ho for noshing on fruit, but for cooking, as we say, on the premises.
It wouldn't have been such a big deal had God let it go at that. But as they were packing up and moving out, He hit them with the curse that has lived on to this day; namely: "Just wait until you become parents. Then you'll know from heartache."
Up to that point, the notion of parenthood had never entered their empty little heads. Hanky-panky, as it came to be known, was merely a welcome respite from watching the apples ripen and teasing the snake. But this parenthood business had them good and scared. They didn't know what it was, but from the Lord's tone of voice they had a pretty good idea it wasn't volleyball.
That first night they rested. Nine months later, children were invented. After that, nobody ever rested again.
I contend that in modern society, the traditional system of child rearing is simply passe. In the old days, you depended on your progeny. You needed all the help you could get when you spent your entire life chopping down trees, raising barns, milking cows, and tilling the south 40. But now that chores consist, for the most part, of nothing more taxing than capping the toothpaste and tossing the empty cereal box, children are no longer necessities. At best, they're luxuries; at worst, they make living with goats look good.
Assuming that people are going to continue propagating the species, I suggest we go about the raising of children in a more logical and positive fashion. As I see it, the major pitfall is that the same set of parents are stuck with the same children for their entire lives. Well, that just doesn't make sense. When people hardly think twice about trading in their cars, selling their homes, moving from town to town and spouse to spouse, it's the height of folly to expect parents and their offspring to survive a lifetime together.
Clearly, the present system produces only guilt and aggravation. And it's all so unnecessary. There are, after all, people who are marvelous with infants but who quickly lose interest once the nipper starts wanting to know how high is up. There are other adults who can't abide 4 a.m. feedings, but who simply fawn over four-year-olds. There are fathers who'd like to keep their sons in cold storage until it's time to try out for Little League, and mothers who begin to dote only when their daughters begin to date.
Well, under my plan, once the child was toilet trained, the baby-loving parents would simply pass the tot along to the next pair of adoring parents, and so on and so forth down the line.
Who knows? With all that unconditional love and constant approval, the children might grow up so admirably there might even be parents willing to take them in when they turned into teenagers.
©2003 Burt Prelutsky
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