Stew Miller Musings and Rants
I Complain (Oh, and Doodle), You Read and/or Comment, Everyone is Happy… IT’S SO SIMPLE!

Something About Kids, Squared

Believe it or not, there are certain kids out there who rival even our own when it comes to incredibly inane stunts. No, seriously, there are… stop laughing. Look, so Charlie, Simon and I go to Charlie’s buddy, Grayden’ birthday party today and, as any cool kid will have, it was STAR WARS themed. Basically the idea was for anyone who felt like it to come in costume and have a blast. Get it, blast? Sorry. Anyway, so Charlie wore just his cloak from his past Halloween costume where he dressed as Luke Skywalker. He would have worn the entire ‘sweat suit’ get-up but it was something like 170 degrees this afternoon and I’m relatively certain he’d have melted on the spot. So he and Simon gathered up all of their Lightsabers, four in total, and the blaster we own and we headed out. The party was really cool; Star Wars this and that all over the joint including games, mock battles, and Jar Jar Binks showing his dumb-ass face to ruin the works… just kidding. So, back to the point here, Grayden’s little brother was yanking on some streamers that hung from this Darth Vader pinata, which I had no idea wasn’t the typical smash-with-a-stick style, and, as luck would have it -just as his gramma was alerting his dad to the situation- he yanked the ‘rip cord’ and like a gushing fountain of sparkles, confetti, and trinkets, the disk ripped open dousing the hapless 1 1/2 year old in shrapnel. It was hysterical. I missed snapping a picture by mere seconds or else we’d have had a prize winner. Adding insult to injury, the boy has quite the nest of curly hair and every bit of that foil and paper bits tangled itself into his coif. Just awesome. Fortunately everyone laughed so it was cool and Grayden’s parents just went on with the party nonplussed.

So, back at the homestead it turns out that mom taught Addison how to perform the classic child’s game, Ring Around The Rosie. I guess, as Addison is wont to do, she repeated ad nauseum until she became relatively adept at it and requested it by name time and again. Oh, what does she call it, you ask? Well, Macaroni All Fall Down, obviously. It seems lately Addy has been talking like a four-year old and, consequently, asking for things like one, too. She has a list of favorite books that either feature colors or counting. The collection includes a Zoo Animal Counting book that she refers to as, ‘Two Hippos’ (the second page, and, as it seems, her favorite), she has Brown Bear, Brown Bear that she affectionately calls, ‘Bowber Browber’ (the title in fast speak, I guess), a farm counting book that she’s named, ‘Cock Da Do Do’ (rooster call, you see), and a book about colors called, ‘Red-Blue’. Listening to her is like nothing I have ever heard before since I’m pretty sure that neither of the boys had no where near the vocabulary that Addy sports. Maybe it’s just the ‘girls maturing faster’ deal, or, she is the smartest child in the universe and one day will rule the cosmos as Brilliant Babe… unless she poops, then no one’s going to listen to her.

Charlie had his first day of Kindergarten today (*CHOKE*) and it was just an orientation and a meet-and-greet type deal. He has a few kids in his class from his Young Fives last year and he really dug that. But, as he says, he wants to make new friends and play Star Wars with them. I told him that not every boy his age is into those movies (see: Dan the Man, my buddy Doug’s kid) and he looked at me and asked me why. I honestly couldn’t think of a decent answer so I just shrugged and said that they were deprived children whose parents kept them tied up in an attic. He laughed and said they were stupid. Yeah, maybe. Anyway, as we were coming out of the classroom and walking down the hall, Charlie had to pee. I led him into the bathroom and hung out as he did his thing. Well, I happened to glance at the wall and saw a Tampon dispenser. I shrugged a little, and then realized, through the fog of utter stupidity, that we were in the chick’s lavatory. I told Charlie to hurry up since we were peeing in the Girl’s Room and he said, “So.” Yeah, well, what if a gaggle of gals came wandering in and saw your John Thomas swaying in the breeze? We hurried and got out and I asked him if he knew we were in the wrong head. He said he’d never used it before. It dawned on me then that all the Kindergarten and Young Fives classes have inner-class stalls. Made sense. Oh well, I guess he’ll know better next time. Or, walk in and drop his drawers to a flock of flustered females. Maybe he’ll land one.

I’m fairly certain Simon is on the fast track to bodily harm and potential brain damage. He jumps off of everything: furniture, tables, the balcony… kidding. Sure, he’s rigid and nigh-invulnerable but I’d rather not send a Forrest Gump to Headstart. Maybe one day he’ll be a linebacker, a daredevil, a stunt man, or in traction, but for now, I’d so rather he not tempt fate by leaping from the top of a chair to a solid wood coffee table. He has no fear and, well, I do. I can see it now: Simon laid up at Bronson, again, with four legs of a metal folding chair jutting from his ass as he grins and explains that he was just, ‘flipping’. Oh, and he’s also 36. It’s going to happen, I’m sure of it.

Oh well, I have to go, Charlie has his pants off. Later.



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