Little Lunatics
There was a moment, with a house filled with my in-laws when I turned around and spotted a two-foot tall kid clutching a blanket who was sort of tugging at me.
"Where's Melky?" He asked.
"You don't want to meet Melky," I said.
What I really wanted to ask was:
"Who the hell are you?"
And I'm not sure if I'm getting too old or what, but I can't keep track anymore. There were so many kids running around...and they have so much damn energy...and their voices are piercing.
"Have you seen Landon?" Someone asked me.
"Michael Landon?" I asked. "Which one is Landon?"
I got a weird look.
Hell, I don't even remember how old my kids are. They like to play the: "What grade am I in game?"
Sam is in 8th. When they asked me a few weeks ago I honestly guessed:
"Sixth?"
So, you see, I'm at a distinct disadvantage when new kids are introduced on the scene.
Then I took to putting my fingers in my ears to dull the sound.
(A lot of that sound was coming from my full-grown niece who will remain nameless - Jen)
Yet there was an expectant father at the party as well.
"Congrats," I told him, "You're f&*%ed."
He laughed.
"You're laughing?" I asked. "Are there still things you like to do?"
He nodded.
"Has she fed you the line that you'll be able to do all of them?"
"We'll be fine," he said. "We get along great. We'll be able to pull it off."
I turned to another Dad in the room.
We both started laughing.
"Is it that bad?" he asked.
One of the kids was flat-out racing through my living room leaving food, drink and loud screams in his wake. The child's mother came chasing after, turned to the Dad seated beside me and said:
"Are you going to help at all?"
We both looked at the father-to-be.
"I'm screwed," he announced.
As the children finally headed out the door and back to their asylums I looked across at my beautiful wife who had worked so hard to make it all happen again (I did do the cooking so leave me alone) and she just smiled:
"Can you imagine having a young child around here now?" she asked.
"No," I said. "They're so freaking loud!"
Kids bring the energy. They are the reason for a lot of smiles around Christmas-time, but damn, I'm so glad that they all went home.
They're flat-out crazy.
"We weren't like that," Sam said.
This time I shared a laugh with Kathy.
They were, of course, but thankfully kids come around when our energy levels are a little higher.
We escaped unscathed.
None of the two-feet guests met Melky.
"Where's Melky?" He asked.
"You don't want to meet Melky," I said.
What I really wanted to ask was:
"Who the hell are you?"
And I'm not sure if I'm getting too old or what, but I can't keep track anymore. There were so many kids running around...and they have so much damn energy...and their voices are piercing.
"Have you seen Landon?" Someone asked me.
"Michael Landon?" I asked. "Which one is Landon?"
I got a weird look.
Hell, I don't even remember how old my kids are. They like to play the: "What grade am I in game?"
Sam is in 8th. When they asked me a few weeks ago I honestly guessed:
"Sixth?"
So, you see, I'm at a distinct disadvantage when new kids are introduced on the scene.
Then I took to putting my fingers in my ears to dull the sound.
(A lot of that sound was coming from my full-grown niece who will remain nameless - Jen)
Yet there was an expectant father at the party as well.
"Congrats," I told him, "You're f&*%ed."
He laughed.
"You're laughing?" I asked. "Are there still things you like to do?"
He nodded.
"Has she fed you the line that you'll be able to do all of them?"
"We'll be fine," he said. "We get along great. We'll be able to pull it off."
I turned to another Dad in the room.
We both started laughing.
"Is it that bad?" he asked.
One of the kids was flat-out racing through my living room leaving food, drink and loud screams in his wake. The child's mother came chasing after, turned to the Dad seated beside me and said:
"Are you going to help at all?"
We both looked at the father-to-be.
"I'm screwed," he announced.
As the children finally headed out the door and back to their asylums I looked across at my beautiful wife who had worked so hard to make it all happen again (I did do the cooking so leave me alone) and she just smiled:
"Can you imagine having a young child around here now?" she asked.
"No," I said. "They're so freaking loud!"
Kids bring the energy. They are the reason for a lot of smiles around Christmas-time, but damn, I'm so glad that they all went home.
They're flat-out crazy.
"We weren't like that," Sam said.
This time I shared a laugh with Kathy.
They were, of course, but thankfully kids come around when our energy levels are a little higher.
We escaped unscathed.
None of the two-feet guests met Melky.
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