These segments are dedicated to Anne who performs the oft thankless task of listMom and also to Noon, who as my archivist receives the strangest requests from me but still tries to fulfill them.

[spouses staggering down hallway toward quarters] "She's only one child."

"If one's so active, what about six?" [mathematically inclined spouse queries]

[spouses wrestle for entrance at door to quarters]

"It was fun though."

"Yeah, but six?" [spouse's brain still engaged with the numerical problem]

"Forget about that for a minute. Har, we've other problems."

[spouse drops tricorder he was using to do routine monitoring] "Wh-wh-what?" [spouse stutters, blood pressure zooms upward]

[EMH interrupts conversation, audio only] "Ensign Kim, your vitals just spiked. What is going on?"

[guilty spouse answers] "Not a problem, Doc. I just surprised Harry." [guilty spouse seeks to shift blame] "Wait a minute, Doc. Are you eavesdropping on us?"

[EMH clears throat] "Not at all, Mr. Paris. I am merely monitoring constantly. I feel a little extra care is warranted in both your cases. Good night, gentlemen."

"Doc? Don't monitor too much later tonight. Things will be elevated for at least an hour."

[spouse regains his equilibrium and snorts loudly] "Ten minutes, not one second longer, and that's only if we include foreplay."

[monitoring over and preparations for sleeping done, spouses slide in on opposite sides of the bed]

"Come'ere, Har." [spouses cuddles for half a minute before changing position]

[spouses try to cuddle again, hold position for half a minute before deciding to sit next to each other and hold hands] "So why're you scaring me, Tom?"

"Not scaring you, Har. But we have a problem."

"What? You're throwing me over for a non-popping model!" [spouse jokes weakly trying to stave off bad news]

"Never." [stern rejoinder] "We need names."

"Huh?"

"Names, Har. We're having SIX kids. You see the problem."

[spouse gets a clue] "Girls' and boys' names? Oh no!"

"Exactly." [grim response] "Something happens to people when they have to choose names for their offspring. We can't show favoritism to anyone, even the captain. We've to choose unique names. No Talaxian, Klingon, Vulcan, Ocampan, Hirogen, or Viridian." [spouse ticks off] "No names of anyone of the crew." [spouse nods and confirms] "Not even middle names or we'll have that favoritism business starting."

"There's got to be at least ten thousand names after we eliminate those." [spouse is bracing]

"Yeah, but it took Wildman six months to come up with one name. We've got more sacs to name." [spouse comments dourly] "We don't have thirty-six months. In fact we have less than three." [slides down until flat on bed and covers face]

"We'll be fine. You'll just set up some Boolean searches and eliminate all the other stuff and what's left is what we'll name them." [spouse assures blithely]

"I am NOT naming my child Zephrem."

"Then eliminate that one too." [spouse pats around under blanket]

"Neither am I naming any one of them after a mountain or a flower or an animal or a-."

"Of course not!" [spouse assures and keeps patting]

"Har, you surely don't think you're getting any tonight with this problem on my mind?" [spouse queries with awful politeness]

"Yeah, why not?" [clueless spouse asks]

"Cuz you gave me a headache." [spouse rolls away, pulls up blanket and mutters to himself while ignoring partner] "Six? Hmph!"

"But, Tom?"

"Until we get names, you don't get any."

The End

Continued in Parenting 301