22 June 2018
914
R. Linda:
I thought I had the clumsiest title, but it turns out I have a fellow clumsy in the form of me youngest kiddo's best friend. Oh yeah, I be feeling quite a bit smug. I can't top this kiddo in falling down, getting scrapes, choking on hard candy, or having bizarre accidents. That is probably a good reason I shouldn't allow him over too often or have any unsupervised playtime. Yes, I be thinking of lawsuits. Not that any of the above would be me fault, but the fault of the kiddo being a natural clumso.
(Clumso: a word derived from the Peter Sellers character Det. Clouseau from Pink Panther.)
This child, who be named Sketch (I tell ya, what kind of name is THAT?), has been over a few times, and each time we have an "incident." Last time I felt somewhat responsible because I told the boyos a story about when I was a wee tot of 4 (their age) and swallowed whole a piece of hard candy that got caught in me throat because I was too greedy to suck on it and enjoy the flavour. No, I thought if I ate one, I'd get another. Well, I have not had a piece of hard candy ever since because I ended up in causality sipping hot water to melt it to get it down me gullet. Yup, that was me.
We were sitting around the fire pit beginning to roast marshmallows when Sketch (oh so aptly named because he is sketchy) decided to swallow whole, a marshmallow, which then cut off his air supply and had his face an alarming shade of blue! I tell ya! Luckily, me wife knows the Heimlich manoeuvre and was able to get the marshmallow (which flew out of his mouth with an impressive amount of force) and save the kiddo. Not so much me eldest, who was sitting across from Sketchy with his mouth wide open in horror when the marshmallow landed smack in his teeth. You couldn't ask for more of a direct hit. Oi!
Okay, so I knew I shouldn't share any stories of mishaps because Sketchy was sure to try them out. The next time he was over, he decided to jump off the back deck because he had just watched Superman, the movie, and if Sup could jump off tall buildings and fly, so could Sketchy. SO attaching a bath towel to the neck of his t-shirt (which said these prophetic words: Encounter the Holy Spirit, JUMP! The shirt was something he got from a Holy Rollers retreat, uh huh). Well, he did jump, that is, and only at the last minute did Tonya see the lift-off, too late to scream at the top of her lungs, STOP! Luckily, Sketchy didn't break a leg, only cracked a rib! Yeah, an ambulance came, and off he went the entire time with Tonya in the back trying to explain to Sketchy's mother on the phone what her son had done and well . . .
After that, it was decided that Sketchy would not be invited over without the supervision of one of his parental units. It has been a few months since the youngest pleaded to have Sketchy over, and yesterday I caved. I called up Francis, Sketchy's father, and told him how me wee one wanted to have a play date with his son, and I'd love to see Francis, so if they both wanted to come over for an afternoon play date and Francis and I could share a few beers, that would work just lovely. Francis said sure, he'd bring Sketch over, and we'd have a lovely afternoon of fatherhood and chat.
At 3, Francis's big Silverado pulls up, and before it even stops, the passenger side door opens and outfalls Sketchy face first. Let's just stop here and imagine the scene. The truck slows, and the door opens quickly, a small arm holding the door handle; the child begins to step out into moving air when the hand slides off the door handle and the whole child drops to the ground face first. I know, when put that way, it sounds bloody awful, but nah, it was bloody crazily funny, nervous funny. I contained me laughter, and I know I should be whipped for finding it amusing, but you had to be there and even his father looked at me like, what can ya do?
I think I blurted out an "OH MY GOD!" and ran for the child. The truck had stopped, and he was far enough away he wouldn't have been run over, but still. His face was full of grime, and he was laughing. Who does that? Sketchy does! I suppose from so many mishaps, he has a sense of humour about it at his young age. I dunno.
We brushed him off, cleaned his face, and he was off like a bat out of hell for the motorised kiddie jeeps me son has. Of which there are two, yup, there are. Both were charged and so that had me feeling uneasy. These things go at a high rate of speed, and both of the boyos love speed!
Let me say that the one thing these two did that gave me pause was the head-on collisions, but somehow, life and limb were safe! I shouted at them several times to stop or no more wheels, but they'd laugh and fly off down the dirt road. I thank the higher powers of the universe for the avoidance of whiplash. HOWEVER, Sketch never fails to produce an event of memorable proportions! I thought too soon that we were safe and through the worst of the visit. What could go wrong, eh? I'll tell you what went way, way wrong.
914
R. Linda:
I thought I had the clumsiest title, but it turns out I have a fellow clumsy in the form of me youngest kiddo's best friend. Oh yeah, I be feeling quite a bit smug. I can't top this kiddo in falling down, getting scrapes, choking on hard candy, or having bizarre accidents. That is probably a good reason I shouldn't allow him over too often or have any unsupervised playtime. Yes, I be thinking of lawsuits. Not that any of the above would be me fault, but the fault of the kiddo being a natural clumso.
(Clumso: a word derived from the Peter Sellers character Det. Clouseau from Pink Panther.)
This child, who be named Sketch (I tell ya, what kind of name is THAT?), has been over a few times, and each time we have an "incident." Last time I felt somewhat responsible because I told the boyos a story about when I was a wee tot of 4 (their age) and swallowed whole a piece of hard candy that got caught in me throat because I was too greedy to suck on it and enjoy the flavour. No, I thought if I ate one, I'd get another. Well, I have not had a piece of hard candy ever since because I ended up in causality sipping hot water to melt it to get it down me gullet. Yup, that was me.
We were sitting around the fire pit beginning to roast marshmallows when Sketch (oh so aptly named because he is sketchy) decided to swallow whole, a marshmallow, which then cut off his air supply and had his face an alarming shade of blue! I tell ya! Luckily, me wife knows the Heimlich manoeuvre and was able to get the marshmallow (which flew out of his mouth with an impressive amount of force) and save the kiddo. Not so much me eldest, who was sitting across from Sketchy with his mouth wide open in horror when the marshmallow landed smack in his teeth. You couldn't ask for more of a direct hit. Oi!
Okay, so I knew I shouldn't share any stories of mishaps because Sketchy was sure to try them out. The next time he was over, he decided to jump off the back deck because he had just watched Superman, the movie, and if Sup could jump off tall buildings and fly, so could Sketchy. SO attaching a bath towel to the neck of his t-shirt (which said these prophetic words: Encounter the Holy Spirit, JUMP! The shirt was something he got from a Holy Rollers retreat, uh huh). Well, he did jump, that is, and only at the last minute did Tonya see the lift-off, too late to scream at the top of her lungs, STOP! Luckily, Sketchy didn't break a leg, only cracked a rib! Yeah, an ambulance came, and off he went the entire time with Tonya in the back trying to explain to Sketchy's mother on the phone what her son had done and well . . .
After that, it was decided that Sketchy would not be invited over without the supervision of one of his parental units. It has been a few months since the youngest pleaded to have Sketchy over, and yesterday I caved. I called up Francis, Sketchy's father, and told him how me wee one wanted to have a play date with his son, and I'd love to see Francis, so if they both wanted to come over for an afternoon play date and Francis and I could share a few beers, that would work just lovely. Francis said sure, he'd bring Sketch over, and we'd have a lovely afternoon of fatherhood and chat.
At 3, Francis's big Silverado pulls up, and before it even stops, the passenger side door opens and outfalls Sketchy face first. Let's just stop here and imagine the scene. The truck slows, and the door opens quickly, a small arm holding the door handle; the child begins to step out into moving air when the hand slides off the door handle and the whole child drops to the ground face first. I know, when put that way, it sounds bloody awful, but nah, it was bloody crazily funny, nervous funny. I contained me laughter, and I know I should be whipped for finding it amusing, but you had to be there and even his father looked at me like, what can ya do?
I think I blurted out an "OH MY GOD!" and ran for the child. The truck had stopped, and he was far enough away he wouldn't have been run over, but still. His face was full of grime, and he was laughing. Who does that? Sketchy does! I suppose from so many mishaps, he has a sense of humour about it at his young age. I dunno.
We brushed him off, cleaned his face, and he was off like a bat out of hell for the motorised kiddie jeeps me son has. Of which there are two, yup, there are. Both were charged and so that had me feeling uneasy. These things go at a high rate of speed, and both of the boyos love speed!
 |
| Speed wagon Number 1 Our Wee Man's Machine |
 |
| Speed Wagon Number 2 Guido's borrowed set of wheels by Sketchy |
Francis and I were sitting by the fire pit, beers in hand, chatting and watching the speed racers, when suddenly Sketch popped up out of the green jeep holding his bottom. Me son sees this, jumps out of his red speed wagon and runs to Sketch, obviously asking him what be the matter. Sketch got excited about being able to drive the jeep and was having too much fun to answer the call of nature. So at the last minute, he pooped his pants, yes, he did. Francis and I were still oblivious to what was going on as the two boyos ran with immense speed up the deck stairs to the kitchen door.
"Don't worry, I got this." Me boyo shouts at us.
We shrugged like ok and sat back down when it slowly dawned on us that Sketch had a bit of a brown bottom running up those stairs, but no, it couldn't be, could it? Nah, he's four years old, going to be five in three days, and hasn't been in diapers in over two years, so . . .
I wasn't too concerned because me Mam was in the house, and me boyo knew to get her if he needed help with anything. So Francis and I continued our gabfest until the two boys came up to us. I noticed Sketch dressed in me youngest shorts (on backwards, I might add), and he smelled a bit off.
"Gees, you smell like poo," Francis said to him, "did you have an accident?"
"Yeah, I did," Sketch answered. "But my best bud cleaned me up and gave me a pair of shorts."
"You did what?" I said to me own grinning hellion.
"I wiped up his butt and gave him a clean pair of my shorts." This was said proudly by me wee one, as he made a wiping motion with his hands.
"You washed up after right?" I asked with a nod, which made me think, no, not at all. Who would think of such a thing, right? Oi!
I looked at Francis, and he looked at me. We got up at the same time, and into the house, we went to the overwhelming smell of poop. Yup, you may have guessed it, the downstairs powder room was smeared with the stuff, and the soiled shorts were in a heap on the floor where they had walked in it. I tell ya! Well, I wasn't about to have me apple-cheeked, grey-haired Mam clean the mess, nor was I, so I handed Francis a cloth and said, "Your son, his mess."
No protest came from Francis, and when he came into the kitchen where I was watching very carefully the boyos drinking milk (I was sure Sketch would find a way to choke on it or break the glass, cutting an artery open). He told me to check the power room out and he'd done a top-notch job, even sprayed the lingering odour away!
I hope I don't see Sketchy anytime soon, though me son be invited to the Big 5 Birthday Party tomorrow. Of all the kiddos in pre-school, why does he have to befriend as his bestest bud, Sketch?
Gabe
Copyright © 2018 All rights reserved
Copyright © 2018 All rights reserved
