Yet Somewhere, Kate Gosselin Might Be Jealous

A brief digression before I dissect the matter at hand.

I have no problem with the British using words like "lift" to mean "elevator" and "lorry" to mean "truck," but I just can't stomach the way they say "mum" instead of "mom." There's a line in the classic Pat the Bunny where you're asked to put your finger through "Mummy's" ring, and I never say "Mummy," unless I want to turn the tale into a story featuring Brendan Fraser. I always say "Mommy." (Also, when a book says "hurrah" I read "hurray.")

And as bad as "mum" is, "Octomum" is eight times worse.

But I digress.

So Nadya Suleman, whose last name reminds me of the Sultan who sported a hat large enough to carry eight babies to term, finally took a moment to wonder, as any normal single mother of 14 who was a single mother of only six less than a year ago...

"What was I thinking?"

What was I thinking? is a question I ask myself several times a day, but usually it's after something like taking Sasha at her word when she claimed not to have crapped her diaper and finding evidence to the contrary all over the house.

Lady, you already had six kids, and they arrived at six different times. I was asking myself What was I thinking? during that endless first night we brought our first child home, again after we brought our second one home, and many times between those events and certainly ever since. Did you think increasing your brood by 133% in one shot was going to make things better?
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