Anyone who knows me knows I don’t like kids. When kids are in the room, they detract all the attention away from me … which is CLEARLY where attention should be placed. Plus, kids are always screaming “MINE! MINE! MINE!” It’s like a little shriveled version of myself.
On Saturday, I went over to see one of my best friends, Deirdre. She and I have practically been friends since birth. (Well, 15 years. Close enough.) Speaking of birth, Deirdre has two products of her loins upon the earth. Collin, age 4 and Declan, age 10 months. Being a devout and proud Irishman, she stuck with classical Irish names. Her husband suggested “Shillelagh” and “Shenanigan”, but cooler heads prevailed.
Her son Collin is a knock of the old block. He swears he doesn’t remember meeting me five months ago. Deirdre claimed the same thing. Collin was probably thrown off by my new red beard … or as he calls it “the scratchy”. He quickly warmed up to me though. Seems I succumbed to his begging and joined in his reindeer games.
The game was called “Shopkeeper”. Collin would run into the other room and grab a bunch of items he wanted to purchase from me. (Seems he’s learning how to make change. Joy. How novel.) Collin would come in to my “shop” and I’d extend greetings. “Welcome to ‘Dinosaurs and Xmas Ornaments’ … where we have a wide assortment of dinosaurs and Xmas ornaments for you to purchase.”
Collin stopped. And announced, “You’re not selling REAL dinosaurs … they are TOY ones. Get it right.” So I had to change the name of my shop to “Toy Dinosaurs and Xmas Ornaments.” I’m glad I didn’t have a sign made or anything. False advertising, you know. No matter how many times I told Collin the price, he’d try and bargain with me. Eventually, I sold both items for .02 cents. Cheap bastard.
After dinner, to keep Collin entertained, Deirdre handed him her camera and told him to get some good shots of me, which isn’t difficult because I’m hella-photogenic. I’ll admit the kid is a natural. I told him what my good side was. And he would only shoot me from that angle. He didn’t have a choice. I kept turning my face to wherever he was standing.
My fave pic was one he shot THROUGH my glass of wine and got both the fireplace AND the Xmas tree in the frame. By this point, I was so bombed I didn’t even know where I was. I just knew there was this tiny little man who kept flashing lights in my face. (That would explain why I look wasted in the pics.)
Later in the evening, I got stuck reading Collin a bedtime story. His parents had disappeared. Even worse, they took the opened bottle of wine with them. I spent 10 minutes reading “The Pokey Little Puppy’s First Xmas”. I read with as much inflection and panache as possible to keep him entertained. When I finished, I was quite pleased with my performance. It was my first time doing drunken children’s theater. All he said was, “At least you didn’t skip any pages like Daddy.”
I blacked out shortly after that. When I came to about 10 minutes later, the house was completely silent and all the lights were turned off. Everyone was asleep. So I let myself out and went home. It was 7:20pm.
Go figure.