The Jones didn't have any children and 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, honey. The man should be here soon."
Half an hour later, a door-to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell with the hopes of making a sale.
“Good morning madam. You don’t know me but I’ve come to…..”
“Oh, there’s no need to explain. I’ve been expecting you,” Mrs. Jones cut in.
“You have?” the photographer asked. “Well, good! I’ve made a specialty of babies.”
“That’s exactly what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat. Just where do we start?” asked a blushing Mrs. Jones.
“You just leave everything to me,” he replied. “Usually, I 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 George and me,” stated Mrs. Jones.
“Well, madam, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. However, if we try several different positions, and I shoot from five or six angles, I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the results.”
“I certainly hope we can get this over with quickly,” gasped Mrs. Jones.
“Madam, in my line of work, a man must take his time. I would love to be in and out in five minutes, but you’d be disappointed with that, I’m sure.”
“Don’t I know!” exclaimed Mrs. Jones.
The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. “This was done on the top of a bus in the downtown area,” he proudly declared.
“Oh my word!” Mrs. Jones exclaimed.
“And these twins turned out exceptionally well, considering the fact that their mother was so difficult to work with,” he said, handing Mrs. Jones the photograph.
“She was difficult?” Mrs. Jones asked.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. I finally had to take her to Central Park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep, pushing and shoving to get a good look.”
“Four and five deep?” asked Mrs. Jones, her eyes the size of saucers.
“Yes,” said the photographer. “And for more than three hours too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling. It was very difficult for me to 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.”
“You mean they actually chewed on your, umm, equipment?” Mrs. Jones asked.
“That’s right. Well madam, if you’re ready, I’ll set up my tripod so that we can get to work.”
“Tripod?” asked a very worried Mrs. Jones.
“Oh yes, 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!”