Champs’ Chats with Jon, Kate, and the Eight

by Champs O’Fallon

Growing up with brothers and sisters can be hard, but try raising them. Eight of them for that matter. Just ask Kate Gosselin, one half of the miracle duo featured on Jon and Kate Plus Eight (Which can be seen twelve hours a day on TLC, along with the channel’s other program, Little People, Big Problem). I  can commiserate coming from a normal Irish Catholic family of twelve brothers and sisters. (Note: That’s actually just a little O’Fallon family joke, I really only had 11 siblings, but Dad’s healthcare wouldn’t cover Alex’s corrective surgery until s/he was 14. Dad still tells him that he was the daughter that he’s always wanted. Oh, dad…) Being the youngest of seven brothers born in 1984, (All fraternal, no twins. Our doctor used to call my mom the “McUterus”) you can imagine my struggle for our parents attention. I can still vaguely remember nursing at eight months old, as my mother laid on the couch with her blouse undone, exhaustedly reading People magazine as my siblings and I would desperately climb over one another for sustinance. I can even recall one time, when my older brother, Michael, to slow my approach towards my mothers breast, wrapped a shoelace, procured from my father’s work boot, around my tiny neck as my other brother, Jimmy,  pushed down with all his little might on the soft spot at the top of my head. Boys, will be boys.

Interested to see how Ms. Gosselin handled the pressures of being both the mother of eight and a reality star, I pulled up to their large Wernersville, PA home, parking my car adjacent to a large construction vehicle. I stood outside of the house, interested by the large plastic tubes being led into the garage by several construction workers, until someone from behind pushed me aside, telling me to “Get out of my way, poof”. After being trampled by a stampede of tiny feet, I looked up only to see the spiky back of the iconic haircut of none other than Ms. Kate Gosselin. I dusted myself off and attempted to garner the attention of the queen bee of the household. As I tried to get around camera crew following her every foot step, I could hear her taking control of the situation as she always has on television, “Dammit, where is Jon?! Cara, get your hand out of your pants! Jon!” she screamed. I followed her voice from behind the crew until they came around to her front to get a better shot, here was my opportunity. I tapped her shoulder, “Ms. Gosselin…”. “For christsake, Jon! Where have you been?!” Before I knew it, I had been laid out on the ground for a second time at the household by a strong punch to my gut. I already felt like I was back at home. “You’re not Jon…! Who are you?” Reluctantly coming out of the fetal position, I explained to her who I was and gave her my credentials. “Oh… Well help me find Jon. Jon! You deadbeat, where are you?!”

Weaving in between what felt like dozens of construction workers, I followed the convoy of Kate and the children up the stairs as she continued calling for her husband. We came upon a room on the second floor of the house, where I could hear a murmur coming from inside, “Jesus, why did you give me my mothers toes?”. Kate burst the door open. There sat Jon, holding a shotgun with his bare feet, struggling to get a tight grip around the trigger for support. “How many times do I have to tell you to not clean your guns inside the house?!” Kate yelled, snatching the firearm from her husband. “Would you for once think of the kids!” I am not a gun expert, but I am fairly certain that the barrel of the weapon should not be in your mouth as you clean it. Jon sat there, hanging his head in disappointment, having learned a lesson from his knowledgeable wife. They are called your better half after all.