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This is my beautiful "ex-wife" Tiffany and our "son" Reginald (pictured below) -- or as we
lovingly called him, Reggie.
We were part of a mock marriage exercise for a theology class in high school. Students were paired
up and given an empty egg shell, the result of tapping a small hole into the bottom of the egg and
allowing its contents to drain. A little hot water to rinse it out and voilą! An egg shell child to
look after and worry about.
My ex-wife did the honors of drawing our cute little son and as you can tell, she did a splendid
job of it. For my part as the father, I found a small,
thickly walled cardboard box that once held a Christmas candle figurine -- a left-over
product from a classroom sale in the second grade -- to serve as our son's crib.
I made it quite cozy by adding a nicely folded blue and white handkerchief for bedding, some blue walls
with yellow ducks (construction paper), and a pillow made from a piece of an old athletic sock, filled
with bits of cotton balls and sewn shut.
For our family exercise in this theology class, we had to take turns taking care of our son, which
basically involved taking him with us to our various classes. He was a bit
on the fragile side, so we were supposed to be doting parents and keep a protective eye over him,
especially since our final grade reflected how well our son "survived" this family ordeal.
I thought that providing him with such a heavy duty crib, complete with a yellow Egg on Board sign
on the outside of the box, my son would be relatively safe for the duration of this class. That was
not always the case.
My ex-wife would leave our son with some "gentlemen" whom she sat with at a table during her lunch period to
wait in line to get her lunch. It was during these brief moments of absence from her vigilant eye that our
son's crib was accosted with puncture wounds made by pencil incisions. I also heard that our
son was seen rolling around precariously on the cafeteria floor, obviously in harms way.
But Reggie proved to be quite durable and survived his ordeals.
Someone was kind enough to fill in the postage information areas on the top of his box that served as his crib
-- From: being The Stork and To: being Tiffany and me --
although some of the puncture wounds to the box were made through my name.
Despite this, we were a happy family and had a lot of fun.
I started each class day with my family since our theology class was the first class period. And I looked
forward to sitting next to my ex-wife with our son sitting upon the small table this classroom used instead of desks.
Tiffany was definitely one of the "popular" persons in our small class but she was popular for the right
reasons: smart; down-to-earth; a natural leader; and she possessed a radiant smile -- one that warmly greeted me each
morning of this theology class. I will admit that I was easily intimidated by her when we were first paired up
for our mock marriage but her kind demeanor soon put me at ease. Being a good husband to her and a good father to
our son was almost too easy -- I am glad we had that opportunity of "marriage" and became good friends after attending
several years of high school together.
Eventually the class drew to a close and our mock marriage ended amicably. I have maintained custody of
our son since then, keeping him safe in his crib.
My ex-wife wrote the following to me on the back of her picture (shown above):
You were the best husband any wife could ask for. I'm glad we got
the opportunity to finally get to
know each other, at least a little.
Who knows what the next religion
class will bring?
Anyway, keep that mind of yours.
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