Bent Words

Bent Words

August 15, 2006

Does the fact that I now like babies mean that I WANT to have KIDS some day?


I used to claim a high aversion to little people; those waist high, bad mannered, smelly munchkins with fabulous metabolisms made me SICK. But now, I kinda get along with them.

Last weekend I even volunteered to watch my nieces while my bro and sis-in-law went to a movie for their Anniversary. It wasn't really like 'watching' them since my bro refused to leave until after they were in bed and asleep, but I was still there and I was still responsible in case one of them found the monster I planted in their closet earlier that day.

That did not happen, though, and for some reason I was kinda hoping it would. I was rather looking forward to having to care for one of them. Perhaps it was just that crazy that I was FINALLY considered the ADULT in the house. That never happens. Even when I share a room full of ten year olds, I am never the adult.

Despite the fact that no emergencies arose, it was good to be in control. I'm glad no one got their finger cut off on my watch and I'm happy that the little girls did not magically add the F-word to their vocabulary over night. I'm satisfied that neither of them were spying on me while I drove my face into a bag of potato chips and I'm fairly certain that I was the only one present who had to use the bathroom seven times in two hours. No nightmares, no bed puke to clean and, overall, no problem.

And if anything does happen, I think I can handle it. No one could possibly present me with a greater mess of puke that my fat cat, Mac, and no one could possibly relate better to nightmares than myself. After all, I lived with the fear of my big brother scaring me in the middle of the night. If all my little nieces are worried about are monsters in their closet, I think I have that one covered. I'll just tell them stories relating to their jackass of a father who used to scratch his nails down my bedroom door at night...

I'm almost sad that the girls are growing so quickly, though, and that I'll no longer be able to get away with not knowing exactly where Oregon is if they ask. They already give me a sideways look when I admit to them that I don't know why the grass is green. But who has time to go into photosynthesis when football is on?

I just tell them that they'll learn that shit in school. Having a little f'ing patience, hey girls?


But seriously -- I was able to spend time with The Boy's friend's baby, Nick, this weekend and we had a great time.

At nine months of age, he is already a great dancer, a wonderful dipper and fabulous in general with the ladies. I taught him the difference between maroon and purple, linoleum and carpet and I showed him that not all white objects are edible (I had to explain that eggs and milk are okay, but a white rope is not an object we should be stuffing into our mouths).

He listened intently and he giggled at the right moments. What a wonderfl kid.

So, I'm not sure if I'm still on the fence with the whole kid thing, but I can tell you which way I'm now leaning. That might be scary but it's true.

It might also just be that the returnable child is the child for me...

Written at 6:06 p.m.