Siamese Septuplets

When I ripped into the Duggars recently, I had no idea that I would be needing to save some of my vitriol for the new octuplet mama, Nadya Suleman. The octuplet birth was no accidental "miracle": Suleman underwent in vitro fertilization, implanting herself with an unconscionable eight embryos. At the age of 33, Suleman has a total of fourteen kids, yet no job, no money, and no partner. I'm no mathematician, but those numbers don't seem to equate.

And yet, they do. Suleman's "people" (and by that, I don't even mean the children) are already looking to fetch about two million dollars for her tell-all interview, as well as exploring a host of other paid endorsements and appearances. It's all for the kids, I'm sure.

I can't criticize too harshly, however, because I explored a similar ethical situation during my first year of college. At the time, there was an advertisement in our school newspaper seeking a young, healthy, smart, attractive, 5'4", brown-haired Jewish woman to be an egg donor. The ad described Betsy perfectly, and the $20,000 fee for donating her egg was mighty tempting. Evidently, there's a lot of money that can be made in the baby-making industry, and we wanted a piece of that action.

Over the course of the conversation, we decided that for the right price, Betsy would donate eggs, Brandi would be a surrogate mother, and I would donate sperm. Alas, by involving ourselves only in the birthing process, our money-making potential was limited. Surely, there was a more lucrative way to have children.

I knew then what parents still know now: multiple births = $$$. Figuring that septuplets would be instant media darlings, the new plan was for us to take seven eggs from Betsy, implant them in Brandi, and I would fertilize them. Still, septuplets had been done. We needed an extra gimmick, one that would guarantee us financial success: SIAMESE SEPTUPLETS.

We knew our plan was brilliant. Sure, none of us were too keen on being parents, but we were excited to exploit and profit. Siamese septuplets would be the world's most adorable freak show. Imagining the possibilities, I created an artistic rendering of what our paycheck babies would like.


Meet the Mutots (our affectionate abbreviation for mutant tots) -- they may be mutoted, but they sure are cute, huh? Look at how they all fit snugly into the uni-diaper (you know that's a bitch and a mess to change), in spite of their variously sized and positioned appendages. Learning to walk was especially challenging for the Mutots, but once we added the peg leg and bandaged the bloody stump, the task became significantly easier for the tykes.

As you can see from their shirts, we acquired several corporate sponsors, which the Mutots proudly display during all of their television appearances. The Mutots are the subject of a Saturday morning cartoon series, have their own cosmetics line at Target, and signed a multi-million dollar deal to pen their autobiographies, once their motor skills come through, that is.

The Mutots may be conjoined, but all have their own individual personalities. We call the middle one the "smart" one, not because of any sign of intelligence, but on the basis of his glasses. To his right is the "beautiful" one with a big pink bow. She's going to be a stunner by the time she hits puberty, assuming her breasts sprout near her and not on one of the other kids' torsos. She likes to gnaw on the ear of our "sleepy" child, who is never awake. (If we're being frank, the "sleepy" one didn't really survive the pregnancy, but it would be nearly impossible to separate him from his siblings, plus septuplets are much more marketable than sextuplets.) The runt is the "scrappy" one. The other three are pretty forgettable, but know how to ham it up in press photos.

Raising the Mutots is difficult; it's hard to find time to feed, bathe, and hold them with all the money counting we've had to do. Also, it can be challenging to love them sometimes (I mean look at them), so it's a good thing we have three parents, so that the combined love we offer them is about equal to that of two parents with non-siamese septuplets.

If you'd like to hire the Mutots for your party, Bar Mitzvah, business function, etc., please let us know. Our kids are not disabled, they're abled... and they're able to do anything... for a price.