After discovering her husband was sterile, Mrs. Jacobs and her spouse agreed to hire a proxy father to help them start a family. On the morning the man was scheduled to arrive, Mr. Jacobs kissed his wife goodbye. “I’m off to work, honey. The fellow should be here any minute.”
By sheer coincidence, a door-to-door baby photographer knocked on the door just thirty minutes later, looking for business.
Mrs. Jacobs answered, took one look at him, and smiled. “Oh, come right in! Harry told me you’d be coming today. No use wasting time, let’s get right to it.”
Slightly puzzled but thrilled by the easy welcome, the photographer sat down and opened his briefcase. “As you may know, ma’am, I specialize in babies.”
“Wonderful,” Mrs. Jacobs said nervously. “That’s exactly what we’re hoping for.”
“I usually like to try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed,” the photographer explained. “The living room floor is fun too—you can really spread out.”
Mrs. Jacobs gasped. “The bathtub? The floor? No wonder it never worked for Harry and me!”
“Well, ma’am, none of us can guarantee a perfect one every time,” he continued cheerfully. “But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven different angles, I think you’ll be thrilled with the results. Of course, 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.”
“I… I suppose I would,” she whispered, turning pale.
The photographer then pulled out his portfolio. “Look at this one. I did this on top of a double-decker bus in downtown London. And these twins here turned out exceptionally well, even though the mother was incredibly difficult to work with. I finally had to take her to Hyde Park just to get the job done right. People were crowding around, four and five deep, just to watch us for over three hours! She kept squealing so loud I could barely concentrate. Then it started getting dark, and when the squirrels started nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it in.”
Mrs. Jacobs gripped her handkerchief in absolute horror. “Squirrels… actually chewed on your… equipment?”
“Yes, ma’am, but thank God, no real damage was done! Now, we’ll get to work just as soon as I set up my tripod.”
“Tripod?” Mrs. Jacobs squeaked, trembling.
“Of course,” the photographer smiled warmly. “I absolutely need a sturdy tripod to rest my Canon on. It’s simply much too big and heavy for me to hold by hand when I’m getting ready for action… Ma’am? Ma’am! Good God, she’s fainted!”
