I'm married to R.Kelly. We're in the car, ready to go on a family vacation in our wood-panneled station wagon.
"Where are the kids?" I ask.
"Still upstairs," says R.Kelly. "They don't want to come. They've locked themselves in the closet."
"Can't you just do that thing you do?"
"You want me to pee on the kids?"
"No! I mean take out your gun and wave it around."
"I don't have a gun."
"Oh. Well, do you have to pee?"
Short Answer: I don't have kids.