Sunday, April 18, 2010
I am the oldest of five...with three younger brothers. You would think I would know how to rough house with the best of them. But, apparently, I don't.
When I was young watching my brothers "play" together, I thought they were the biggest dopes. They would roll around the floor hollering and carrying on like they were taking each others head off. Strangling, screaming, yelling, punching. Yeah, I thought they were a strange species of human being that my poor mother was inflicted with and was too nice to send them back. They would fight and play and then...inevitably...one would get hurt. Like, duh. But what I thought was unbelievably moronic was they would go running to mom to seek retribution.
Even back then I thought to myself, if they were my kids, I would have hit their heads together to render them unconscious. Did they really think my mom was stupid? Like she hadn't just been listening to their mayhem and nonsense and no way was she picking a side? She would yell at both of them and they would sniffle and get bent out of shape at the total unfairness of moms...and then go back to playing.
I truly thought boys were the most irrational things in the world for years.
Now, it is coming back to haunt me. I babysat my grandson today, two year old Z, and I realize being a girl is definitely a strike against me. His dad is one of seven...five of them boys, so little Z has tons of uncles who love to play rough. And my ex totally is the love of his life. Papa has a hangar for his plane and I guess he takes Z there and they run around and play like crazy. I always used to call it the play house for big boys.
We walked to the park. Well, he got spooked by some girls and made me carry him and push his little car at the same time. Man, those mom muscles are atrophied. He ran up the steps, hung from the top of the slide, and I thought he was going to pitch himself off the top. I was having a coronary. Do you stay at the bottom to catch him? Do you stay on the top to stop them? Do you have any idea how long it has been since I went down a slide? I am positive I have slide burn.
But I was boring...so he marched off to his little car and proceeded to push it all over the neighborhood. Did you know two year olds will throw themselves to the sidewalk just to check out what's underneath a car? He had to point to every tire we went by and tell me to "Look at dat."
We made it to his house, I made him lunch, he pretended to eat it. Then a smell started to waft around me. A stench of suspicious origin. Uh oh. I should probably tell you that the older I get the worse my gag reflex gets and, oh no, it was starting to kick in.
"Z, I need to change your diaper."
He ran away and hid in the living room. I finally managed to corral him and pretended he was a rocket and he let me carry him into the family room but he was not all that pleased with me.
Until I started to change his diaper.
Oh my, he was belly laughing. I thought for sure he was going to pee in my face he was laughing so hard. Why? Because G'ma was gagging and coughing and her eyes were running. He thought that was absolutely the funniest thing ever. And that's when it hit me....
Oh my god, he has been taken over by an alien species.
Posted by Happy Hour...Somewhere at 4:41 PM