[Originally published May 17, 2010.]
Before you remove us from this frame and replace us with a picture of yourselves, I want you to take a nice, long look at us. We’re gorgeous. What are the chances that your family is as happy and aesthetically pleasing as us? I’d have to say four percent, tops.
Do you like our sweaters? They’re shearling. That means they’re made from lambs. Specifically, lambs from the lamb farm we own. The same one where every summer we invite underprivileged kids to feel temporarily privileged. Does your family own a lamb farm and invite underprivileged kids there?
How rude of me, we haven’t even introduced ourselves. We’re the Andersons. I’m Evan, the lovely size-zero lass in the floppy sun hat is my wife Amy, and these are our best friends/children, Evan and Amy Jr. As you can see, we’re very fit and active. You know what our family’s average percentage of body fat is? Three. Yes, really. We got it tested last year when we all became organ donors.
You may have noticed that I’m carrying Amy on my back. We do that a lot. At least once a day, and not just when we’re in fields like this; we do it on beaches and in urban environments as well. That’s what happens when your love is deep and playful like ours. You should also know that we also dab frosting on each other’s noses every single time we eat cupcakes, which is both mischievous and very us. Do you guys even eat cupcakes?
Amy and I continue to reach new heights of sexual satisfaction fifteen years into our marriage. While you guys are sitting around in your sweatsuits fighting over who forgot to pay the gas bill, we’re smiling exactly like this through hours of mind-boggling tantric intercourse.
You’re probably wondering about the vintage jeep and hot air balloon in the background of our picture. That’s our jeep. I restored it myself. You’d think I’d be tired of working with my hands after fixing brains as neurosurgeon all day, but I’m not. We’re about to enjoy a beautiful scenic float over the countryside—a little something we do every Saturday. Why? Because we crave adventure and have zero fear of heights, that’s why. What’s your idea of adventure? Let me guess, a frantic trip to Bed Bath & Beyond a half-hour before closing?
Does your family sing barbershop? Ours does. A baritone, a soprano, and our two little Mensa tenors. We even have a name for ourselves, “The Andertones.” I’m looking forward to busting out one of our signature medleys on the ride of home from ballooning.
You may have noticed that Evan Jr. is the only one of us who’s Asian. That’s because we adopted him from China—not because we have reproductive issues of any kind, in fact Amy’s doctor referred to my sperm as “Troops” and her eggs as “Normandy,” so our genitals are working very, very well. We simply felt that adopting was the right thing to do because we have a lot of love to give, probably two to three times more than you do.
There’s Nippers, our purebred lab, running around in the distance. I love that old gal, had her since I was a little boy. I know that may sound like a physical impossibility but it isn’t. Not in this family.
What’s your picture of, by the way? I’m dying to know what you’re so anxious to replace us with, and please don’t tell me it’s a shot of you guys bowling. You know the last time Amy and the kids and I bowled? Never. Because it’s pathetic and dull and not representative of the enviable lifestyle we’ve chosen for ourselves.
Let’s get real here. It’s time to place your picture next to ours and ask yourself an important question. Who’s better? Then put your little bowling picture back in the drawer and let the Andersons turn this house into a home.