The one percenters!

The baddest of the bad call themselves "the 1%" - or the one percenters. It's a group of bikers, including such groups as the Hells Angels, Banditos, or the Outlaws to name a few. But no matter their name, they share in common a reputation for rough riding and law breaking, which is how their nickname came to be.

In defense of the motorcycle community at large following the outbreaks of several melees between motorcycle clubs, or MC's, for short, the American Motorcyclist Association, issued the following statement:

"99% of bikers are law-abiding citizens, but there's that one percent who are nothing more than outlaws...."

The ONLY reason that I know this is because my husband is an avid two-wheeler. He lives and breathes motorcycles. I sometimes fully believe that motor oil, rather than blood, pulses through the man's veins. It's not just that he knows how to change oil, readjust clutch cables or install any part that J&P Cycles advertises....the man knows the culture, as well - even if he doesn't live it in his seemingly "white collar" life by comparison. And there is a separate culture for motorcyclists, make no mistake. If you've ever watched Sons of Anarchy then you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you ever meet a MC member, not to mention a 1%'er (because they are not one and the same necessarily) then you'll understand. MC stands for something that goes way beyond the ingredients of an oil change and a frat party.

In another life, given the opportunity, I'm sure the hubs would be a "one percenter". Not because he's an outlaw, but because he shares a lot in common with what some MC's stand for - he's a loyal guy, always up for a good time, and loves to ride fast and hard. He'd be speeding through the Black Hills of South Dakota with his braided goatee flying in the wind and fingers full of skull rings, complete with a leave-at-work job for greasy hands, and an "ol' lady" at home keeping cold suds in the fridge. 

But in this life, as it turns out, he's just become a different type of one percenter - and so have I - only I won't be wearing a "Property of _____" patch on a vest. Members of this one percent club say it's pretty cool - adventurous and extreme for sure. Elite even, by some standards. And it's not horribly common. There are no cool hats or leather vests with 3 rocker patches like the Hells Angels, Outlaws, or the very handsome Sons of Anarchy (hellloooooo Jax Teller!), though. Gray hair and the relief of knowing you survived are probably the only souvenirs to be gained through membership.

I'm dubbing this our very own one percent club because I found myself asking "What are the odds?" while staring at the sky in hopes that God would offer a response. But when I didn't get one after repeated questioning I decided to do some research on my own. Turns out members of this club are the 1 out of every 89 - or 1.123596% of the population of people becoming parents.

We've just conceived twins. Naturally.

Au naturale. No meds. No in vitro. No acupuncture - Ha! We couldn't afford those things even if we were interested. No crazy kama sutra positions or fertility exercises or consultation of the Chinese calendar. Not even the first drop of Robitussin.

We did it all on our own. My lazy ovaries and misshapen uterus and his "super sperm" have outdone themselves.

So not only do I have to get the man a cape to signify the superiority of his sperm, but now I've got to make him his own one percenter vest. I'm thinking instead of a skull and cross bones I'll have a teddy bear and crossed rattles, though.

With his goatee braided and combat boots on, surely he can toughen up the look.