Okay, so my friend and coworker, Kahones wrote a note on his Facebook page last week that had me absolutely crying from laughter. So naturally I asked him if I could bogart it for this here blog thingie, because really it is just too funny not to share. Seriously. Thankfully, he agreed. Enjoy!
Just Desserts... You Make The Call
Let me preface this little ditty with... I love kids. Love them. There's nothing as sweet and pure. Let me also say, there's no ONE way to parent. Everyone does it differently, but when personal spaces are invaded, either physically, by deafening screams or unidentified flying, slimy objects, something's just not working.
I finish my morning broadcast and pop into my favorite coffee shop for a piping hot java and crisp breakfast sandwich. It's 8:30 so it's busy. I pull open the door and hold it for a Mom, hand-in-hand with her little man (4-years-old I'm guessing). He's not really walking. He's kind of beebopping. You know that bounce, bounce, over striding, ants-in-his-pants walk. Of course, because we are an immediate and connected society, she's on her cell phone. As she passes my smiling face, I hear her in a snide and snotty tone: "oh I CAN'T STAND to do anything with that family. That child is an absolute monster. A total brat!"
Remember these words folks.
Somehow I end up in front of Mom and Cameron (I'm guessing. She called him: Cammy). I'm digesting the comment I heard as she passed through the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Cammy still hand-in-hand, standing quietly, patiently. I think to myself: "Self, isn't that a picture. What a well-behaved boy". That thought was quickly erased... no, BEATEN out of my brain.
Cammy starts complaining. Mom tells him to be patient. Everyone else has to wait. Cammy starts doing the dead-weight-nearly-pulling-Mom-over-starting-to-scream lean. Heads are starting to turn. Mom relents and releases Cammy's hand.
Then the kid lets one rip. I mean, not a cute, little tot toot... I mean a 70-year-old Grandpa, asleep on the couch, clear a room boom. I bit my lip, cuz it was ffuuuunnnnyyy. Mom says "what do you say?" I was thinking... "uh, want to check my pants?"
Cammy's a wanderer. He marched over to the taster bagel stand, reaches up, grabs a bagel bit, smells it, then does his best center-field-to-home throw. he launches it over the people waiting in line, over the counter and into the food prep area. "Cammy! Stop that. Get over here", Mom snarls.
Cammy starts darting--I'm talking a dead sprint--from the front of the store to the back. It's reckless abandonment. He farts. Not so cute Cammy doesn't care who he runs into. Mom's barking at him to slow down. To stop. Too late. Cammy's at the age where his big melon is at the height of an average man's crotch. On a dead sprint, Cammy slams into some poor chap. Yep, Cammy's head hits him right in the ... well, "creamer". Guy spills his coffee. Mom let's out a big sigh, goes over, apologizes and scoops up a coffee soaked kid. The screaming begins. The entire shop is staring. Mom's jaw is clearly tight with tension. I'm starting to chuckle. The kid farts.
By this point I've paid for my coffee and sandwich. Sipping my rich, black cup of joe, I wait for my sandwich order to come up. I know I'm in store for something good again, cuz Cammy is screaming--shrilling at the top of his lungs all the while doing the dead man lean. Mom again, let's go.
Did I mention this is a mistake?
The terror takes off again. Farts. Mom's trying to pay for her freu-freu-candy-coffee-in-a-cup. All is quiet. Not good, because Mom has NO IDEA where Cammy is. He's not in sight. He's in the back of the store. Suddenly out of nowhere... Suuuuper Caaaammmmyyyyy!!!!
I'm not sure what Mom is doing, but I assumed she would have cashed out and bailed out. Not before this. What is it about kids and spinning in circles at warp speed, I'll never know. Cammy is whipping around in circles faster than the Tea Cups at some crappy County Fair. He comes out of his spin--not on purpose--but that "Whoa, Whoa, Whoa" arms flailing kind of way. He darts forward headed for the counter. He slams, forehead first, into the side of the counter and drops like a stone. As Cammy slams on his back, he simultaneously farts AND burps. Suddenly I feel this really warm feeling in my sinuses. No, it's not a sneeze. Coffee damned near sailed out of my nose. I look around and everyone, EVERYONE, has that suppress-a-laugh smirk on their faces.
Mom runs over to Cammy. Not a scream... Not a cry... Not a whimper... Mom picks him up and that's when I notice a 2 1/2 inch, well defined, red indentation on Cammy's forehead. No blood. He'll feel that in the morning. Mom implores, "Are you ok?" FAAAARRRTTTTTTT.
Hey, great my order is ready!! I grab my sandwich and turn to see Cammy and Mom walking
out, hand-in-hand. Cammy's now pulling on the seat of his pants. Wonder why? I guarantee it's going to be a smelly ride home. An employee picks up Cammy's tossle cap and hands it to Mom. Now we all understand why it wouldn't stay on his head... the horns kept pushing it off.
Thinking back to the phone call I overheard at the beginning of this story, I laugh to myself. As parents... our kid is never the brat. It's always the other kid.
Thanks for the huge laugh, Kahones. My only question is...what the HELL is that woman feeding that kid?!?