I have 12 children.

I have 12 children. If you want to know why I have twelve children stop and try and remember that little talk your mother had with you when you were little. The one where she explained where babies come from.

My oldest son is retired from a career in the French Foreign Legion where he retired in the highest enlisted grade. He then moved to French Polynesia and married a striking Polynesian and is gorgeous mixed race raising two children. Both are beautiful children but the youngest got hit with the Irish gene and sports red hair and freckles with a Polynesian complexion. Oh, well. Picture a Polynesian Larry Bird. Still, I'm prouder than a peacock over them.

My oldest daughter has been incarcerated but is coming up for parole early because of her excellent conduct in prison. She was convicted of murdering a woman that kept asking her father too many nosy questions about his family.

Another daughter is presently in Alaska where she, her husband and three kids live in a far flung remote outpost with the nearest neighbor ten miles away. She once shot and gutted a reindeer about two days before she gave birth to her youngest child. They both love living there. They say the best part is there are no suburban neighbors trying to tell them how to mow their lawn and gossipping behind their backs.

Two sons are MDs. One is currently in Africa doing relief work for peanuts. He loves it. The other is a plastic surgeon in Hollywood specializing in boob jobs, tummy tucks, and butt lifts. He once gave Joy Behar one of his cards offering her a deal on a much needed face lift but hasn't heard from her yet. He makes more money than God.

Joy Behar still needs a face lift. Then again, she's a nasty old broad and I wonder if he could make a difference. You can't make nasty go away.

One daughter considered a career in Hollywood after she was on the Jerry Springer show. She now has an honest career in Hollywood ringing a register at the Hollywood Safeway. 

Ah, yes. My lovely little bookworm. She got a PhD in English and American literature and taught at one of the Seven Sister colleges for Several years. After the 2016 election she was fired because she had the nerve to say that even though she voted for Hillary she wished good luck to Donald Trump for the good of the nation. She went to work with her brother as a commercial fisherman. The two have turned into a successful team.

My son, the fisherman. He tried to get started fishing lobsters and digging clams in Dubuque, Iowa and failed miserably. He moved to Maine where he proved to be rather successful catching lobsters and digging clams. 

When his sister was fired from a teaching post she joined him and briefly fished. The pair of them opened a lobster pound and have been successful both fishing and selling to the public. They have customers worldwide as they air ship their catch anywhere. She says she's a lot happier there doing a job she didn't even have to graduate from high school for. She doean't have to deal with psuedo intellectuals and suburban moms. 

A son of mine is currently running for political office. I didn't raise him that way. I raised my children to be honest. He will never darken my doorstep again.

My other daughter, the prostitute and porno actress is welcome in my house anytime. While I don't like her career choice to say the least, she's at least honest about it.

I also have a son that had to do everything the hard way. He had only a term paper left to get his degree. It was written and ready to go but he didn't turn it in. Instead he enlisted in the Marines hell bent on becoming a mustang officer. When he made corporal meritoriously he sent the term paper in and was sent his degree. He applied for the green to gold program, was accepted and went to OCS and was commissioned. When he made captain he was assigned a company. When his term as a company commmander was over with he resigned.

He's some kind of spook and we occasionally corrospond through some strange third party. He's doing well even though I have no clue what he's up to.

The youngest is currently an Air Force NCO responsible for teaching aircrews survival skills in case they get shot down but I have told him he can't come to Thanksgiving dinner until he apologizes to his sister for eating her pet gerbil last Christmas.

There is also a 13th child but he's not really ours. 

I tried to prank my wife and 'borrowed' a youngster and had him sitting on the couch for when my wife came home. Of course she was shocked and asked him what he was doing there. He had been coached by his father and I.

"Mr Piccolo bought me for $4 and a bottle of whiskey from my real father. Mr. Piccolo said he'd raise me if I promised to take care of him when he got old."

I was expecting a conniption fit with panic stricken screeching from my wife but when the cell phone went off my wife was in tears of joy because she wanted to raise another one.

The boy's father and I played hell getting him his son back for him. He's a regular visitor.

So tell me about your family.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY