“Is it his baby…or is it the milkman’s?”
Show of hands among the ladies: How many of you have given birth to a baby that you told your husband was his, but it was actually the milkman’s?
As often as that phrase is used, you’d think that there would be milkman babies all over the place. But in reality, only 1 out of 5 babies born after 1980 are milkman babies (way down from 2 out of 3 babies born between 1950 and 1970).
So why do milkmen still have that stigma?
I decided to do a little research on this point by signing up for Oberweis home delivery thanks to a well-timed Groupon. From what I can tell, Oberweis (which I pronounce in my head and out loud Oberveis. It’s because I have a German name) is a local dairy farm that provided a milk and grocery delivery service. They come once a week and leave bottles of milk and whatever else you want in a cooler in front of your house.
I received my first Oberweis delivery today. I ran outside to greet the milkman and tell him where to leave the milk cooler (I’m receiving my deliveries at work). He introduced himself as Ken. Really nice guy.
Before he left, I said, “Hey Ken, how many milkman babies have you produced?
Ken wiped his forehead on the back of his hand and replied, “What?”
I gestured in the shape of a baby. “Milkman babies. How many women have you slept with while delivering milk, producing a baby with the union of your sperm and her fertile egg?”
He squinted at me and said, “If you were me, would you disclose that information?”
“If I were you, I’d have some dental work done,” I replied. “But that’s not the question.”
Okay, I’m kidding! Of course I didn’t ask Ken about his sexual proclivities. And he had perfectly fine teeth.
However, if I can find a polite way to ask it, I may actually ask Ken about the “perks” of the job. Any suggestions on how to ask? Or should I definitely not do that?
The truth may be boring or too shocking for him to say. Don’t ask and let your imagination run wild.
Fair enough. You’re not curious at all, though? 🙂
All truths, whether boring or shocking, are best revealed through a well-planned sting operation… I mean research project. In four easy steps:
Step 1. Vasectomy. (Wait, wait! Hear me out! This is for science! Don’t you want to contribute to the world’s fund of meaningful knowledge?)
Step 2. Marry a hot wife. Vapidity is a plus. For statistical power, you’ll need to have about 50 of your friends marry hot wives, too.
Step 3. Sign up them all up for Overweis home deliveries.
Step 4. Await results.
This is brilliant, except…why do I have to get a vasectomy?
I’m going to automatically sign up all of my married friends in the area, so I’m going to need another 35 men to marry hot, vapid wives. Just for a little while.
The vasectomy is to make sure that any and all babies born during Project Milkman are not yours. That way you can accurately tally the milkman’s spawn. (Note to any of the guys planning to enroll in this study: The vasectomy clause applies to you as well.)
Okay, that makes sense. At least, I really hope it makes sense, because I just got back from the vasectomologist.
I find it morally reassuring that you just got back from the vasectomologist, rather than just getting back from signing up to be an Oberweis milkman.
Wait, that was an option?! Come ON, Sarah!