As a man, my first priority in life is my God. Running a close second is my family.
I treasure my wife, son, and future children as if they were my own. Which I’m not convinced they really are. I keep feeling like I’m going to wake up and find it was all some elaborate practical joke. Frankly, that’s easier to believe than the idea that I’ve have such a beautiful wife, much less that my genetic code could possibly have contributed to such an awesome kid. But supposedly this is actually happening. Heh.
My Wife, Sarah
In 2005, the beautiful and talented Sarah Sikes alegedly became Sarah Sigler, and her fate was sealed.
The progeny of what might be two of the world’s most eclectic individuals, this hippie princess possessed the intellectual fortitude to stand toe-to-toe with a jaded nerd unfit for public consumption. Daily demonstrations of the unyielding love of God empowered her to civilize this uncouth cat through the guerrilla tactics common to feminine wiles.
In the summer of 1998, she played hard-to-get like a champ, masterfully wrapping a clingy twig of a teenage boy around her pinky with smooth likes like, “Fine! Fine! If it will get you to shut up, I’ll hold your hand!” Such a saucy minx.
Seven awkward years later, the alleged wedding happened, and I became either the luckiest man on the planet or the unluckiest mark ever.
“Sarah” (if that’s her real name) has played her role well. Too well, if you ask me. But now, all these years later, this woman claiming to be my wife is the single most important person in my life and a cause for daily celebration. If I’m being duped, I’m cool with it. She’s that good.
My Son, Korban
In 2010, my wife peed on a stick.
Not like a small piece of wood found beneath a tree (though she may have done that, too; I can’t rule it out), but rather some plastic fortune-telling contraption with an unenigmatic portrayal of a plus sign. The fortune it foretold has indeed cost me a fortune, but I consider myself fortunate. Presuming, of course, this isn’t just another step in a long con.
Which it might very well be.
Think about it: my son has personality, creativity, and cunning. All those are traits he could have just as easily gained from his “mother” (she has all three in ample supply). As for Korban’s resemblance to me—well, that could all be a part of the plan. I mean, what does one need to be, say, a master of disguise? Well now, off the top of my head, I’d say perhaps a deft personality, some creative juices, and—I dunno—maybe a bit of cunning?
How’s that for evidence?!
It’s all inconclusive, I admit. Which just makes it all the more suspicious, if you really think about it. And I have.
There are other factors at work here. Godchildren, close friends, and companions we’ve accumulated over the past decade plus. If the “family” I have is actually some hoax, I’ve yet to identify the positions of these other individuals. Are they in on the scam? Or are they fellow victims of the same ruse?
The jury’s still out on this. In the meantime, I’m going to play along. I’m having a blast, after all.
A Test: Adoption
I’ve got a test in the plans. If Sarah and Korban are in on this thing together, maybe introducing an outside party will help expose the truth (or at least get me an ally). So, I’m thinking an adopting a little girl might be just the ticket.
Sure, on the outside, it’ll just look like we really want to love another child, to grow our family, to do our small part to change one life for the better. Yes, I’ll seem like a doting father embracing his adopted daughter as his own flesh and blood, but in reality, perhaps I’m conspiring with the young newcomer to find the truth.
With my background, adoption might not be easy, and it will certainly require some fundraising, but I think it might just settle this once and for all. And if it turns out my suspicions were unwarranted, if this all turns out to be “for real”, then I’ll just have to grin and bear it. 🙂