I have triplets and I need help. I'm sure you probably already figured that, but this goes beyond the uniqueness of raising triplets. You see, I have kind of a unique parenting problem to share with you that needs the attention of top notch scientists at NASA or some top science lab.
Because I don't want my family to end up in the hands of angry, gun-wielding agents, I’m throwing this secret out to the blogosphere so you can direct me to the good scientists. Like maybe those guys in the movie ET. The ones in the version with the guns edited out. More moral and less angry ones, if possible.
Back to the problem at hand: I have a broad, but fairly shallow understanding of the science I’m about to get into, which is why I need the help, but stay with me.
You see, I have time-travelling triplets. They can literally alter time; seemingly at will.
Case in point: I look down at my watch and, lucky me, I have an hour to get the three of them into their shoes. That is it. Six Velcro shoes on six little feet. One hour. Those are good odds, even for putting shoes on three three-year olds, and I’m doing a fantastic job as Daddy Organizer.
I’ve gotten two children shoed; I look at my watch to check how I’m doing time-wise. I do this fully ready to pat myself on the back for how much time I have to spare. But I don’t have any time to spare, because there are now about 7 minutes left in that hour.
Stunned and trying to figure out exactly what happened, I look up. One of the triplets crying, I assume this is because time travel is traumatic. Worse, the two children who once had shoes on their feet now have only one shoe – combined. I guess time travel is also chaotic, because we can’t find any of the other shoes.
My daughter, when I finally find her in the next room over has no pants on. Remember, I claimed time travel; I made no representations regarding their control over it. Frankly, if we could harness it I wouldn’t need the government’s help.
Anyway, where are her pants? How do you lose pants except through the chaos of time travel?
To recap, in 53 minutes I put on two pairs of shoes, only to lose a child, three of said shoes, and a pair of pants. The only way I can explain this is that the gravity created by the three of them somehow warps the time-space fabric. Think of time-space as tin foil. The kids are this dot of paint on one side and when they fold the tin foil over, that dot of paint transfers over to the other side without ever touching the middle of the foil. I’m guessing those shoes are somewhere in between the two dots of paint.
Pseudoscience aside, it is now about 4 minutes till we have to leave and I have to find a pair of pants, three shoes and… hey, where did Rand get off to?
What I think will interest the government the most is that this phenomenon goes in both directions.
For instance, same set up, but instead of an hour to get shoes on, this time I have shoes, jackets and hats.
I’ve learned my lesson. This time, the shoes, jackets and hats are all laid out and in view. Once again, I’m fairly confident and proud of myself for being as prepared as I am.
Despite wriggling feet and floppy limbs, I wrangle the shoes on. Arms go in jacket holes, are taken out when I realize they are in the wrong holes, and are reentered. Little voices complain about uncomfortable feet and shoes are removed and put back on and the process repeated until the shoes end upon the proper feet. Hats go on heads and I breathe a sigh of relief and check the watch, fully expecting to be 35 minutes late and…
What do you mean it has been 5 minutes! What do I for 55 minutes with miniature Stay-Puffed people, their little arms inflexibility extended outwards by overstuffed jackets?
I’m sure I could word this post in a way that would get the NSA’s attention, but that isn’t the type of government concern I’m interested in stoking.
That is why I’m asking you other parents out there. Which one of you out there can put me touch with a good time-travel expert?