Kick Ass Wife taught her college class Monday night, so it was me versus the brood.
I slapped on my vaunted one-man zone defense, served and survived dinner, then got the older three into pajamas, into bed, and into Dreamsville before 8:30, sans tranquilizer darts, which is a hell of an accomplishment. This left me some time to kick back, watch a little football, and talk man-to-toddler with Tax Credit #4 before KAW got home and heaped copious amounts of praise on my kid-whispering ass.
Cuatro Surpriso: a toddler of few words.
It’s nice to just sit down and have a conversation with #4, aka Smiley McGee, aka Cuatro Surpriso, aka The 18-Month Old Boy. You get to talk a lot, as Smiley only says one word: “No.” He occasionally says something that sounds sort of like “more,” but on the other hand could actually be “Zsa Zsa Gabor” or “rabid boar” or a random guttural noise. Hard to say.
We should probably be concerned by #4′s complete lack of spoken vocabulary. After all, Slim was regurgitating whole episodes of The Wonder Pets verbatim by this age. But that’s exactly why Smiley doesn’t talk: the older three rarely stop jabbering long enough to breathe, much less let The Little One get a word in edgewise. Plus, he doesn’t need to talk. He points and grunts, the rest of us retrieve. It’s a tidy relationship.
And on the flip side, he’s a physical freak. He’s always being dragged along by his siblings. At his current developmental trajectory, he’s going to be this smiling little mute riding a unicycle across the top of the monkey bars while juggling three flaming Barbies by the age of two. Sounds like a promising career path for a Cirque Du Soleil performer.
Oh well, Vegas would be nice to visit.
But he does say, “No,” and in fact he has two variations: a Yes/No and a No/No, if that makes any sense. Like if you ask him if he wants some milk or if he wants to watch Team Umizoomi (he is crazy addicted to that show), he’ll give you a dramatic chin-to-chest-eyes-to-the-sky head nod and a slightly-higher-pitched-recognizably-more-gleeful “No.” This “No” means “Hell, yes.”
So he’s fun to talk with and bounce ideas off of, because if you phrase your comments and questions the right way, you know what his response is going to be. This is especially fun if you have the basic mental capacity of an average 12-year old boy. Such was our conversation last night.
“I’m going to grab a beer while we watch the game. You want one.”
“No.”
“Good boy. Just a little test there. You think this new Favre-Moss thing is going to work out?”
“No.”
Real. Chafing. Jeans.
“Yeah, I agree. Too much ego there. Hey, speaking of Favre, I wonder if he always wears Wranglers when he’s not in his football uniform? And do you think that he always has a bunch of guys in Wranglers just hanging around his house waiting to play touch football? And is it always muddy?”
“No.”
“Agreed. I bet he wears sweats once in a while. I mean, you can only play football in jeans for so long before things get uncomfortable. Sweating, chafing. You’ve been there. Not good. He might need to borrow some of your Butt Paste.”
“No.”
“That was a joke, Smiley. I doubt that Bret Favre is interested in your Butt Paste. Think the Yankees are going to win the Series?”
“No.”
“Phillies? Giants?”
“No.”
“Rangers?“
“No.”
“So you think it will be the Rangers, huh? I hope so. Nice story. And the Texas Connection would be happy. Sure not much joy in Jerrysville with the Cowboys.”
“No.”
“Did you have fun at the wedding last weekend?”
“No.”
“Me, too. Weddings are nice. Good to see family. And the receptions are typically memorable. You were a dancing machine, by the way. Did Perpetual Motion teach you those moves?”
“No.”
“I thought so. Saw you doing his patented lay on the floor and spin in circles. And you were flat kickin’ it when they played ‘Ice, Ice Baby.’”
“Did you know that Vanilla Ice has a home improvement show on DIY Network?”
“No.”
“It’s true. ‘The Vanilla Ice Project.’ Here I’ll snap off a lil’ sump-sumpthin’ for ya:
All right stop, Renovate and fasten
Ice is back flippin’ homes his passion
Hold on to that board I cut tightly
Sawing miter joints daily and nightly
Will that paint dry? Yo; I ain’t sure
But that door frame out I’m gonna fur
To the extreme I rock a drill like Bob Vila
Brush with the grain when applyin’ seala’
Sand, sand baby. Sand, sand baby.
Pretty good, huh?”
“No.”
“You’re right, it could use some work. Did you know Vanilla Ice’s real name is Robert Van Winkle. Vanilla Winkle would have been a good rapper name.”
“No.”
“True. Definitely not as cool as “Ice.” Get it? Cool as ice? Funny, huh?”
“No.”
“Geez, lighten up. You’re supposed to be Smiley, remember? You got poop in your pants or what?”
“No.”
“Oh, you do? Sorry about that. I was speaking figuratively. Hey, speaking of poop in your pants, swimming at the hotel pool was fun, wasn’t it?”
“No.”
“I love it, too. Be honest though: was the thong too much?”
“No.”
“It was? Well, I kind of figured as much judging by the all of the gagging and parents diving to cover their children’s eyes and all. I don’t know. Maybe it’s time to just hang the banana hammock up for good.”
“No.”
“By God, you’re right. Hell with them. This is America. If they don’t want to be scarred for life, they shouldn’t look. Hey, I think I just heard your mom pull up. I know this is a little awkward for you, but do you think there is any chance I’m getting lucky tonight?”
“No.”
“Really? You don’t think that she’ll remove that weapon of mass destruction in your diaper so I don’t have to?”
“No.”
“Okay, let’s go do this thing. It’s been nice chatting, Tax Credit #4. We’ll have to do this again.”
“No.”
A DIY show? Really? Ironically, I had a Vanilla Ice reference in my last blog post (referring to an Ice Ice Baby ring tone) and took it out. Glad I did, it couldn’t compete with your Sand, Sand Baby. Which I had to read out loud. Molly (2)and the dogs officially think I’ve lost it. Thanks for sharing Cuatro with us — personally, I think he’s a communication genius. We all use way too many words.
Have a great one,
Amy
Yeah, really. That’s what I thought. Apparently he is pretty handy. Who knew? I think that episode one is tomorrow night.
Not going to pass along the “communication genius” to Cuatro. His head is big enough as it is. Literally. Toddler heads, you know. Disproportionate.
Thanks, Amy. Looking forward to your latest post.
Chase
Child is brilliant…. as circus performers go!
Maybe he can be a carni. Rachel would be impressed.
Thanks for reading, Cletus.
Now this was worth waiting for…more please!
Glad you’re back!
Wendy
Yeah, life can really get in the way of this writing thing.
Thanks, Wendy.
One-man zone defense = hilarious. I am so stealing that. Okay, I’ll likely give you credit. If my brain-cell depleted cortex is still functioning enough by then.
I love the whole conversation involving “No.” Usually it’s me who’s saying no. Love the fact it was a Tax Credit who was saying it.
Thanks for making me laugh – again!
Steal away. I’m sure it wasn’t original to me anway. Little is.
Good luck with your cortex. Hopefully you taxed it putting together the Wednesday Whiteboard!
Thanks for stopping by.
He’s a grand conversationalist already, you’ve nothing to worry about there. If he went “What?” or “Que?” there might have been the need for wrinkled brows, but “No” is a great word to master. Too many people only say “Yes” and get into heaps and heaps of trouble.
“Would you slap that kid around while I take his lunch-money?”
“Yes.”
“Would you stash this weed for me, my dad’ll kill me if he finds it?”
“Yes.”
“Would you hold this gun for me while I go dig a shallow grave for the body?”
“Yes.”
“Would you jump off this bridge and check that the water’s not too cold?”
“Yes.”
See? You’re blessed with that little guy.
All my best!
Yes does seem more troublesome when you put it that way.
And I am definitely blessed with that little guy.
Thanks.
Great post.
And awesome little rap diddy. Do you do birthday parties?
Bring the posse!
If our posse rolls into your birthday party, we will turn that mother out.
My street voice is really coming along nicely.
Thanks, Marina.
Hehe, cute kid!! Not much of a talker yet…;)
Thanks. I’m sure at some point we’ll wish for the days when he didn’t talk.
Ohmygosh, my sides hurt from laughing. I’m sorry (for me) that it took me so long to meander over here. Excellent post. Great fun!
Thanks, Hippie. I appreciate you stopping by.
Sand, sand, baby….
that…………was…………AWESOME!
I love made up lyrics to classics, do it all the time, just not as well as you did. CLASSIC.
Remember pumping VI in the high school days. We were badass, weren’t we?
“No.”
Thanks, TK.
Omigosh Chase.
Seriously. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but stop writing this blog immediately and find an agent.
Just xerox one of these babies and do all of us writers out there a favor and get a book deal. Or at least get some parenting magazine to publish some of your stuff. Your content is just too rich. (Tip: Find out which magazines Sarah Jessica Parker likes to read and query them.)You crack me up.
Tonight I peed in my pants a little.
But I know that’s nothing to you. You are a man who can handle serious Butt Paste.
My hero.
Could you call Ferris Bueller’s wife for me and ask her which parenting magazines she reads, Renee? That would help a lot.
I really thought that this one might make you pee your pants a lot. I’ll try to do better next time.
Thanks.
You had me at Butt Paste.
p.s. Giants win
Butt Paste usually seals the deal. Ugh.
I’m too bitter about the Rockies falling short to pull for the Giants. Sorry.
Hey Chase – YES-NO this post was so hilarious. The necks a bit sore from practicing the yes-no technique. I must say I totally agree with Schuls-Jacobson. You are a fantastic writer!
Love you,
Ethel
Thanks.
Shuls-Jacobson will be happy to know that she and my mom are in agreement.
Love you, Mom.
PS – I MISS THE ALL-CAPS. THAT’S SORT OF YOUR SIGNATURE STYLE.
OKAY!!!
THAT’S BETTER!!! THANKS, MOM!!!
So good! I haven’t been able to read anything this week until now. So glad I found you first. My eyes were getting heavy until I started reading. Laughing out loud by the time Tax Credit #4 rejected that beer. See, that’s just good parenting. Keep it coming daddy-o.
In our house, we have a firm rule that none of the kids drink beer before the age of two. And no smoking younger than three.
Thanks, Clay.
Hilarious! I found your blog via the Nebraska post … good stuff here
Love that you call your kid Tax Credit #4, good stuff
The long-term psychological effects of that name and resulting counseling may outweigh the credit in the long run, but we’re going with it.
Thanks for stopping by.
You’re funny, no?
Come by for breakfast some time, today works for me.
What are we having?
Thanks for reading.
Chase…
I love reading your blogs!!! Keep up the great writing and I am looking forward to more. Too funny!
Thanks, Tristan.
Keep blogging! Gave me a giggle! Now I better go remove the weapon of mass destruction from my pants…ha ha ha. Oh sorry, that may be just too much informations.
Thanks for the laugh. Love you guys & gals.
Gotta be careful with those WMD’s! Thanks for checking out the blog, Jody.
Very funny – loved it.
LOL @ Vanilla Winkle.
Thanks. Appreciate it.