Diary of a Wolfeman

So I’m driving the Pookster to school this morning, minding my own business and listening to the radio when the ad hits the air. The voice is female, and from tone, inflection and grammar I suspect caucasian, mid-thirties, reasonable education. Your basic suburban soccer-mom. The kind of voice I typically ignore in a radio ad, because the chances of them shilling something interesting is pretty small – these voice talents usually push things like spa treatments and shoe sales.

And then what she’s saying sinks in.

“My husband has always had this small suspicion that our daughter isn’t his – I’ve always known he is the father, but he wasn’t always sure. Now, I can prove it once and for all with the $Company Home DNA-test Kit!”

Blink-blink. WTF?!?

That’s right, folks – you can now go down to your local pharmacy and get a DNA testing kit right off the shelf without having to go to the doctor. A couple of quick cheek-swabs, pack ’em off to the lab in the enclosed envelope, and in 3-5 days you can prove once and for all that you weren’t banging the postman.

And you used to worry about the “you’re gonna be naughty” looks you would get when buying condoms. Now you have the chance to get the “boy, did you fuck up!” looks.

Somehow, I don’t think the soccer mom trying to prove the mailman isn’t the father is their true demographic. I get the feeling that the real target audience here is perhaps a little less classy. To wit:

“That *bleep* Alphonse, he wasn’t ownin’ up to the fact that he was Shamiqua’s daddy and comin’ down with the *bleep* support checks, ya know? So’s I went down and gots me the kit from the pharmacist, and now I KNOW it’s his problem too, and he better be payin’!”

Or perhaps:
(Sound of banjo music) “Daddy’s been real mad since Junior came along, but now with the $Company Dee-Enn-Ayy kit I can show him that Junior is his son and not his nephew, and we can be a real family again!”

The mind wobbles.