The drugstore cashier looks at me blankly. I gesture at the tabloid stand beside her register, to indicate the source of both my information and my confusion.
“I don’t even know who Khloé is,” I admit.
She’s with me now. Heck, she’s way ahead of me. “Probably one of the Kardashians,” she responds.
D’oh. Of course: a Kardashian. A family so famous (for being famous) that even I have heard of them.
After circling back to the in-store post office to complete my errands, I pass by the same tabloid again on my way out. This time I have attention to spare for the sub-headline, which I’d missed on the first pass: “Who’s the daddy?”
Ah. It seems there are five men who could be the daddy.
I leave the drugstore feeling . . . I’m not sure what.
Amused by the irremediable silliness of tabloids?
Disgusted by a celebrity culture that sees nothing wrong with a situation in which any of five men might be a baby’s daddy?
Old-fashioned? Straight-out old?
Maybe all of the above.
Arriving home, I commune briefly with Google to confirm that Khloé is, indeed, a Kardashian. In doing so, I learn there are more websites devoted to the Kardashians and their antics than I could have imagined. I also learn some helpful facts:
- All the Kardashian kuties have K names: Kim, Kendall, Kourtney, Kylie, and Khloé. Well, of kourse they do.
- One of the possible fathers is Scott Disick, hitherto unknown to me, but apparently the father of Kourtney Kardashian’s babies.
- One of the possible fathers is Lamar Odom, Khloé’s husband.
Leaving Khloé, her husband, her supposed lovers, her siblings, and all their fans to whatever the next tabloid cycle brings, I realize I now know exactly how I feel. I feel relieved. It’s good to have a happy takeaway from this.
And what would that be, you ask?
Just this: It could, after all, be the husband’s baby. How charmingly old-fashioned would that be?
Oh, I forgot. I learned one more thing. There might not even be a baby. Stay tuned for next week’s issue, coming soon to a drugstore tabloid stand near you!