Cheaper by the Dozen

Dad took it pretty much for granted that all the rest of his children would be boys.
    "The first four were just practice," he'd say to Mother, while glaring with assumed ferocity at the girls. "Of course, I suppose we ought to keep them. They might come in handy some day to scrub the pots and pans and mend the socks of the men folk But I don't see that we need any more of them."
    The girls would rush at him and Dad would let them topple him over on the rug. Martha, using his vest pockets for fingerholds, would climb up on his stomach and the other three would tickle him so that Martha would be joggled up and down when he laughed.
    Number Six was born in Providence, where the family had moved in 1912. As Dad had assumed, the new addition was a boy. He was named William for Mother's father and one of her brothers.
    "Good work, Lillie," Dad told Mother. But this time there was no elaborate praise and his tone of voice indicated that Mother merely had done the sort of competent job that one might expect from a competent woman. "There's our first half-dozen."
    And when his friends asked him whether the new baby was a boy or a girl, he replied matter of factly: "Oh, we had another boy."
    Dad hadn't been there during the delivery. Both he and Mother agreed that it didn't help matters for him to be pacing up and down the hall, and Dad's business was placing more and more demands upon his time.
    Mother had her first half-dozen babies at home, instead of in hospitals, because she liked to run the house and help Dad with his work, even during the confinements. She'd supervise the household right up until each baby started coming. There was a period of about twenty-four hours, then, when she wasn't much help to anybody. But she had prepared all the menus in advance, and the house ran smoothly by itself during the one day devoted to the delivery. For the next ten days to two weeks, while she remained in bed, we'd file in every morning so that she could de the girls' hair ribbons and make sure the boys had washed properly. Then we'd come back again at night to hold the new baby and listen to Mother read The Five Little Peppers. Mother enjoyed the little Peppers every bit as much as we, and was particularly partial to a character named Phronsie, or something like that.
    When Dad's mother came to live with us, Mother decided to have Number Seven in a Providence hospital, since Grandma could run the house for her. Six hours after Mother checked into the hospital, a nurse called our house and told Dad that Mrs. Gilbreth had had a nine-pound boy.
    "Quick work," Dad told Grandma. "She really has found the one best way of having babies."
    Grandma asked whether it was a boy or a girl, and Dad replied: "A boy, naturally, for goodness sakes. What did you expect?"
    A few moments later, the hospital called again and said there had been some mistake. A Mrs. Gilbert, not Gilbreth, had had the baby boy.
    "Well, what's my wife had?" Dad asked. "I'm not interested in any Mrs. Gilbert, obstetrically or any other way."
    "Of course you're not," the nurse apologized. "Just a moment, and I'll see about Mrs. Gilbreth." And then a few minutes later. "Mrs. Gilbreth seems to have checked out of the hospital."
    "Checked out? Why she's only been there six hours. Did she have a boy or a girl?"
    "Our records don't show that she had either."
    "It's got to be one or the other," Dad insisted. "What else is there?"
    "I mean," the nurse explained, "she apparently checked out before the baby arrived."
    Dad hung up the receiver. "Better start boiling water," he said to Grandma. "Lillie's on the way home."
    "With that new baby?"
    "No." Dad was downcast. "Somebody else claimed that baby. Lillie apparently put off having hers for the time being."
    Mother arrived at the house about half an hour later. She was carrying a suitcase and had walked all the way. Grandma was furious.
    "My goodness, Lillie, you have no business out in the street in your condition. And carrying that heavy suitcase. Give it to me. Now get upstairs to bed where you belong. A girl your age should know better. What did you leave the hospital for?"
    "I got tired of waiting and I was lonesome. I decided I'd have this one at home, too. Besides, that nurse—she was a fiend. She hid my pencils and notebook and wouldn't even let me read. I never spent a more miserable day."
    Lill was born the next day, in Dad's and Mother's room, where pencils and notebooks and proofs were within easy reach of Mother's