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Proxy Father

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After years of frustration, trying to start a family without success, Mr and Mrs Jones decided to use a proxy father to start their family.

On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Jones kissed his wife and said, “I’m off to the office darling. The man should be here soon. Good luck and I hope it all goes well”.

Half an hour later after her husband left for work, the door bell rang at the Jones residence and Mrs Jones went to the front door and opened it.

Purely by chance, a baby photographer was going door to door, hoping to make a sale and it was he who had rung the doorbell.

“Good morning madam”, the photographer said, “You don’t know me, but I’ve come to…”

“Oh, no need to explain. I’ve been expecting you”, Mrs. Jones replied.

“Really?” the photographer asked. “Well, that’s good! I’ve made a speciality of babies”.

“That’s what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat. “Just where do we start?” asked Mrs Jones, blushing and naturally somewhat nervous.

“Leave everything to me”, the photographer said. “I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too, you can really spread out”.

“Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn’t work for Harry and me”, Mrs Jones replied.

“Well, madam, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the results”.

“I hope we can get this over with quickly”, Mrs Jones said with a gasp.

“Madam, in my line of work, a man must take his time. I’d love to be in and out in five minutes, but you’d be disappointed with that, I’m sure”.

“Don’t I know”, Mrs Jones exclaimed, thinking about her husband’s usual technique of satisfying himself first.

The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures to show her.

“This was done on the top of a bus in London’s West End”, he said proudly.

“Oh my god”, Mrs Jones exclaimed, tugging at her handkerchief.

“And these twins turned out exceptionally well when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with”. The photographer handed Mrs Jones the picture.

“She was difficult?” asked Mrs Jones.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. I finally had to take her to Hyde Park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep, pushing to get a good look.

“Four and five deep?” asked MrsS Jones, her eyes widening in amazement.

“Yes”, the photographer said. “And for more than three hours, too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling. I could hardly concentrate. Then darkness approached and I began to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just packed it all in”.

Mrs Jones leaned forward. “You mean they actually chewed on your equipment?”

“That’s right”, the photographer said.

“Well madam, if you’re ready, I’ll set up my tripod so that we can get to work”.

“Tripod?”, Mrs Jones looked extremely worried now.

“Oh yes”, the photographer replied. “I have to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It’s much too big for me to hold while I’m getting ready for action”.

“Madam? Madam? … Good Lord, she’s fainted!!!”

Image used under a Collective Commons License from

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