Wednesday, June 6, 2007

My monster... My friend

Expectant mom: darling, would you like a baby brother or sister?

Son: no thanks mom!

Tough luck kid, you tried but you've got no choice. However you eventually reconcile yourself to the idea of a younger replica-a slave to your every whim, your slightest command the focal point of their existence. WRONG AGAIN.

Pretty soon you think all the hype was about nothing. That is until you actually meet the SCREECHY, WAILY, CHANGE-MY-DIAPER AND FEED ME, BUNDLE OF RED SOMETHING! That your wise and all knowing parents have deemed fit to bring home from that house of horrors (judging by this midget)-the hospital.

Soon your little alien is growing in alarming leaps and bounds and you begin to wonder if his mother ship is ever going to come and take him back to his home planet.

Finally resigning yourself to the fact that you are basically stuck with him for life (groan) you decide to make the most of a situation you can't get out of. But no matter how imperious your commands or how threatening your stature the little squirt simply refuses to obey. The fact that he cannot turn onto his side yet is absolutely no excuse!

Determination is the key. "All right you little martian-Walk the plank!" Gurgles accompany a total resistance to your glow in the dark neon sword. How such an insignificant morsel of humanity can ignore the might of your lustrous rapier sends you into the throes of a violent rage.....and you do the only thing that can possibly salvage your wounded pride-hide the pacifier!

What follows is quite predictable... ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE is not a term to be used lightly but it captures the scene that follows-right from the harassed mother searching high and low for the missing heirloom, to you poking the little beast in the diaper to get him to shut up. May I add that this form of inducing silence is highly unsuccessful-it only leads to more high pressure decibel assault on sensitive eardrums.

It might seem unthinkable but soon the little squirt starts to grow on you. No one else can smile with that adorable lack of teeth and then howl without drawing breath until he turns a totally rad shade of blue.....of course your mother might not regard the latter as a highly desirable trait.

You come to the decision that life can be quite unaffected by this little intruder. WRONG! (Funny how many times that keeps happening) You discover just how wrong when you arrive home from second grade to find squirt sitting under (yes, under!) a pile of your clothes beside your open wardrobe. Apparently someone is learning to walk and apparently that same someone picked the wrong hand support to pull himself up. So now you have been condemned to the most dreaded chore ever-THE CLEAN UP!

Then bit by bit their nocturnal overtures seem to mature a little. Rather than scream (loud enough to wake the dead) at the three second delay in their 2 a.m. feeding they resort to more localized torture. They climb out of their crib, toddle over to the nearest bed and howl right in the occupant's ear.

That you happen to be the occupant of the nearest bed is just an unfortunate twist of fate. How are they to know that a six year old is utterly unaware of how much distilled water goes in their formula-Hell! You didn't even know he ate normal earthling food. You just assumed he subsisted by mentally absorbing the torment he inflicted on your innocent by-stander of a teddy bear.

And no mom, I don't care how small he is, he simply cannot have my teddy bear-so what if he's my baby brother- I didn't ask for one. Santa got the letters mixed up-I distinctly remember asking for a puppy - not a beastling!

And then the beastling in question is no longer in the infantile stage of existence. The current stage is highly treasured in later life but at the time is one of the most exasperating experiences ever! THE ADORATION AND ADULATION! How in heaven's name do you explain to a midget in baby bucklers that his stunt of fitting both tiny feet into one of your in line skates would quite possibly cause the forced removal of his two front teeth - need i add his only teeth - front or otherwise!

Also you have no idea why squirt follows you around all day long-alternating methods of locomotion-his choices being-

1. On all fours (where you occasionally trip over him)

2. On very wobbly legs that don't seem to agree with each other on the direction of movement

3 .and of course by hanging on to your leg and hitching a ride....

"Go Away! I am NOT mommy, in fact there are times I deny any biological connection to you whatsoever! "Yet after a while, despite your misgivings about the safety of a diaper, you accept defeat in exasperation, "Alright I'll carry you!"

Well, the squirt has won another round and judging by that smile on your face... it doesn't seem like you lost either, now does it?

3 comments:

Envie said...

Ah the tale of younger siblings! Doesn't really change from one person to another does it? :)
Really well written yo!

Rahul Batra said...

Very nice piece. Fortunately, I have a younger sister and I'd have to admit, she was never a problem :) On the other hand, if anything, she might've felt all of this for me (the elder brother)!
Very genuine account all the same.

Anonymous said...

Oh well.. that's something i never had to deal with.. considerin i was a member of the beastling community.. ;-)