After the "We Are Food" game was done, she hugs me tight around my neck and says "Will you curl up into a ball with me?". This is Phase Two of BedTimeCuddleTime. We have a book "Sometimes I like to Curl Up into a Ball" about a wombat* who does a bunch of crap throughout his day and at the end he curls up in a ball with his mom and says "It's my favorite thing of all!" - we reenact his strange non-sequitur every night and it's adorable. I live for these moments... tonight, however, it took a decidedly sinister turn:
Little: I love you, Mama.
Old: I love you too, Baby Face.
L: *hugging my neck as tight as she can* ...Why aren't you dead yet?
O: Um, (I try to never act weirded out by anything my kids say as I want them to feel "okay" and that mom is "hip to the jive, a real cool-cat"... yeah, they aren't convinced either) well, I'm not very old and I'm not sick, so I'm still here.
L: Yeah, *tightens grip and whispers in my ear* but one day, you'll be dead at the bottom of the ocean.
O: *Holy shit, is she threatening me? Is she a clairvoyant? Should I ask her to elaborate?* Oh, um, well, yes, one day I will die - everyone dies... but I hope it will be a long, long, long time from now.
L: Yeah in a long time... you'll be down in the seaweed. *giggles and kisses me on the cheek*
O: Okay, then! I love you to the Moon and back and you're wonderful! *please don't hurt me!*
So, yeah, strange things like this are brought up and you just have to be cool. I want my kids to trust me, with all things, including their unfiltered thoughts... even though I am secretly kinda weirded out and a little nervous.
Sometimes, like with all people, they just want to be bad and experience the thrill of pushing the envelope. For example:
We were driving to go pick up Dad one day and the Little One was jabbering on about Caillou (whom I hate. Caillou whines about everything and is afraid of anything remotely interesting. Like going out for ice cream for instance, Caillou can make this event into a miserable time for all involved) It went a little something like this:
Little: Caillou is the big brother! (she has recently fixated on titles and roles that people have)
Big: Caillpoo is more like it!
L: Haha! Yeah! Cai - Poop!
B: Haha! Cai- Poop in His Pants!
Old: Enough with the potty talk you two!. *scowling at traffic*
L: Fart in a face! Haha!
B: Pee in a face! Haha!
O: You guys! Gross! I need to concentrate; quiet down.*secretly wishes she could fart in the face of the driver in front of her*
A few brief moments of beautiful calm are then interrupted by the Biggest and Baddest thing The Little One could think to say:
"Poop in a big toilet! And then throw it on a face! AHAHAHA!"
I know, right? Where the hell do they get this stuff from? I do remember how much fun it was to be bad like this as a kid though. I can recall one time I was riding my bike and I cut out into traffic and was almost hit by a car. The guy slammed on the brakes and yelled at me (an understandable reaction to almost accidentally killing a foolish kid) and I stood there stone faced until he pulled away. It was then that I decided to flip him the bird (this was the thing to do in the 80's, as you may remember).
I felt bad, bad to the core, and I liked it. My finger hoisted high in the air - the living, breathing embodiment of Freedom!
Until he hit the brakes again and threw his car into reverse. Ha! I took off like the wind - "Regret Nothing!" my soul cried as I tore away on my sweet Dusty Rose colored Schwinn.
I also defaced a picnic table once. I had just almost died (again) and this Brush with Death left me feeling jittery and alive - confident and rebellious: I live! I am here! Up yours, Fates!
I had to do something to assert myself.
I found a nail and began scratching out the first bad word that came to mind. I finished my handiwork and was more satisfied than I had ever been up until that point in my life. I had written
D I C K W E E D
in one inch tall letters. Ha! I wish I had that table now. Whenever I feel pangs of self-doubt or am crippled by insecurity, I could look at it and be like:
"That's right, assholes, DICKWEED, indeed. Don't make me come over there and ruin your lawn furniture. Because I goddamn will."
I was 10 and had mostly been reformed at that point (there was a smoking incident that involved the stealing of a carton of smokes from my friend's dad, a fire that I set that got way out of hand - not my fault! It can't be more emphatic about this - it wasn't my fault, what ended up happening there), and some other stuff I'll get into more later when I can explain it all away to you; It will require more space and I think it's best I parcel it out to you over the years. I've found that works best.
The point is, I had been a Good Girl for awhile at this point and so this transgression was very exciting.
Now that I am stumbling down Memory Lane... I recall there was also a b&e (if you want to get technical) but... it's complicated. See, I knew a kid who parents were friends with a guy who owned a small convenience store and we gained the knowledge that his parents had a set of keys to the store. And so one day, we wanted to get candy, but the store was technically closed and were kinda had no money. So my friend (who was 2 years older, it is important to say) was like "We have a key..." and I said "Well, then, it's obvious, isn't it?" and so we went in and took 2 Charleston Chews, 2 cans of Coke and 2 Blow Pops. That's it! It was basically entrapment! I was 9! We didn't rob the cash or knock stuff over -- we were just two young, unsupervised, candy addicts.
For the Love of God, I swear I was a Good Kid who only did Bad Things
How did I almost die you ask? How was this shining light of Human Goodness almost extinguished?
Well, it started out as the Third Best Idea Ever but quickly became a nightmare (as my Best Ideas Ever have a nasty habit of doing). As I mentioned, I was 10 at the time and that would make my sister 13. She had a friend over and of course they wanted absolutely nothing to do with me (even though we can all see I clearly was awesome) and so I knew I had to cook up something really great to do in order to get them to hang out with me.
There was a horrendous storm raging outside and we were all trapped and miserable inside. We lived on a mountain at that point in time and there was an Alpine Slide there for people to ride on in the Spring and Summer. It was made up of huge concrete slabs that formed a half-tunnel that swerved down the mountain side.
Don't be fooled by this picture of Happy Family Time - immediately after the ride was over, the mom had a much-needed cigarette and the little girl carved a profanity into a picnic table.
Where's that pic, Tourist Board?
As you can see, it's pretty much exactly like a gigantic water-slide and hey, look at all that rain... BOOM! Third Best Idea Ever was born.
Tune in next time for the ridiculous conclusion of Feels Good to Be Bad!
*Do you guys remember the yard tool from the 90's that was called The Wombat? Yeah, me too.
*Do you guys remember the yard tool from the 90's that was called The Wombat?
ReplyDeleteNo, but I remember the Garden Weasel. It was kind of horrifying. Pretty sure they used it in a Nightmare on Elm Street movie at some point. (No, really.)
Children are pretty much the most entertaining creatures on the planet, and I'd rather listen to the crazy stuff they say than watch calves run. And watching calves run is HYSTERICAL. (Even if you only discovered this because you went to college in the middle of nowhere without even a second-run movie theater and there was nothing to do for fun but eat hallucinogens and watch baby cows and laugh and moo. [I don't mean me, Mom.])
A recent favorite:
Wife, from front seat: OH MY GOD WHAT'S THAT SMELL?
Son, from back seat: It's me! It's like I had sardines and fart juice for breakfast, isn't it?
Comedy gold.
Speaking of which: One fine summer day when I was about seven years old, my sister and I had accompanied my mother on a trip to the grocery store. As we waited in line to check out, my sister reached out and picked up a Chunky bar.
"Can I have this?" she asked. My mom said 'yes' and put the candy on the conveyor with the rest of the groceries. Just like that! No glance back to me, no offer of reciprocation, nothing. Just 'yes' for one kid, and that was the end of it.
Well, hell to the no, I thought. Behind her back, I grabbed another Chunky and stuffed it into the pocket of my shorts.
When we got home, the first thing Mom did as she unpacked the groceries was to take out the Chunky, unwrap it, cut it in half, and give the respective pieces to my sister and I to enjoy.
Dammit! Foiled by her dastardly feminist scheming!
Wracked with guilt, I took the candy I'd stolen out to the back yard and buried it. After, you know, eating my half.
Well, I just want to interject that damned slide almost killed us....shredded the ass out of my shorts. You know all those eighties movies where inevitably someone slides down a chute of preposterous angles? The screams? They're real. Thanks for the memories, dickweed!
ReplyDeleteSeriously, it's stuff like this that really makes me want to have kids. Or have your kids. We still quote "ham-lovey-the-mermaid" in our house.
ReplyDeleteI remember alpine slides as being really fun, but almost too fun, the kind of fun that you know, even in your crazy kid mind, that if it was just a tiny centimeter funner, you'd die.
Or at least wind up with fractured bones, because that seemed to happen a lot on aline slides here.
@YBS - I love this story! What a sweetheart you were to shamefully bury the Chunky bar. I love that stuff - those tales of childhood where you puzzle-out conundrums and fight to find out who you are. The secrets, the fear, the furtive scheming! And you, my dear, are a sweet one. Sardines and Fart Juice! Ha! By the way, Chunky bars are my all time favorite candy bar - so I can get behind your decision to steal one. Thank God we didn't know each other as children; trouble, trouble, trouble...
ReplyDelete@My Sister - I am surprised you remember anything of that day - I've never seen someone shake so... love you, you asshole who made me risk my life for your attention!
@Falen - Ham Lovely the Mermaid! I can't tell you how it delights me to know you use that title in your house :D Yes, Alpine Slides are just this side of fun - everyone who has been on one has had the fear of going just a bit too fast, just a bit too close to the lip. Ride it, sans scooter, in the rain when you are 10! You want to talk about a rush! I honestly think I have a touch of the PTSD from this experience, no joke.
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ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteI think anyone can play it with another person, regardless of age or relationship to one another even. You just make someone into, say, a sandwich by pretending to put a piece of bread on them, then adding the peanut butter and jelly and then squishing the other piece of bread on top - followed by monster noises as you eat them up.
Yes, Joan. Anyone can play that with anyone else.
No wonder you turned out so weird...
So, yeah, strange things like this are brought up and you just have to be cool.
I've heard very strange things from my nieces (and to a lesser extent the nephew), both directly and via their mom, some of which you've read. They don't mean to be macabre when they talk about death; it's very matter-of-fact, and I guess asking about it is just an uninhibited child's way of trying to prepare for what might be scary — or just scratches the itch of curiosity.
Chunky bars are my all time favorite candy bar
Well that explains a lot. A nice thick block of chocolate and maybe nuts that you bite into only to find out that it has raisins inside. The Devil's Candy!
I think if I tried to play the "We are food" game, I might end up living alone. I think he can only take so much insanity...this year. Next year is a whole 'nother story!
ReplyDeleteNote to self: increase insanity points to 25hp.
@Blam - You're right about little kids and death. Little One only recently learned about a death in the family from years before and is confounded by the whole thing. It seemed an impossibility to her for months (understandably) and now she mentions it fairly frequently and in a very matter-of-fact way (which is a little hard, way deep down, but not on top where I handle it with the poise and grace you all know me for).
ReplyDelete@Palindrome - It's good to ease him into it. Soon he'll be immune to any ranting and raving you engage in ;) I stomp around like I'm 6'4" and then am weird and cry and get moody and then laughy and then maudlin and then nice and my husband is just unflappable -- he no longer takes me seriously (if he ever did!). Which is good; if he was half as mercurial as I am, we'd never make it.