Friday, July 17, 2009

The Kids Are (Not) Alright

It’s not you, it’s me.

When it comes to child interaction, you don’t want me involved in the water balloon toss or wheelbarrow race. And you certainly don't want me loitering near petting zoos or schoolyards, mischievous grin intact as I encourage insubordinate behavior. You see, stirring the proverbial pot (or stuffing the occasional potato into the microwave) has always been my forté. And should this instigation score your kid high honors on Santa's Naughty List, so be it. Like the crazy uncle banned from family gatherings, I’m amused by the utter gullibility of children.

Before you paint me as some child-hating abscess, leading your offspring into kindergarten thuggery, consider that I adore contact with babies. Clad in silly one-piece attire, their precious innocence explodes into hearts, minds, and diapers. Other than wicked stepmothers or Joan Crawford, who hasn’t brightened to the charming hysterics of a newborn’s first peek-a-boo? They look like bald aliens and behave like primates, but after the post-umbilical hose-down, cuteness prevails.

Unfortunately, I enjoy the squeals of rugrats much better when they can’t speak; which is to say, unless some third world doctor offers to extract their larynx, I’d just as soon return the babblers to the Vlasic stork before they master the alphabet. Toddlers are boring, adolescents are pricks, and high schoolers are full-blown assholes. It’s tiresome enough conversing with an acne erupted, half-wit nose picker who’d rather sniff glue than learn algebra (especially if he's your own son, God have mercy). But networking with the mind of a three year old is an exercise in patience beyond anything asked of Job; akin to holding tête-à-têtes with drooling hobos who spew incoherent nonsense. In other words, feigning interest in choo-choo trains with humans who consistently vomit lunch and soil
underwear out of convenience is exhausting, whether in homeless shelters, trailer parks, or pre-schools. Yet many of my peers communicate amazingly well with the younger set, killing brain cells with puerile gibberish, whereby dinners in the Easy-Bake oven start to look appealing as their grasp on reality loosens.

Over the course of time, dear reader, the mettle of my penis will be tested. Virile stallion or empty vessel, the answer remains unknown. Should the former ring true, I too will assume cartoonish voices, appease imaginary friends, cleanse skinned knees, throw baseballs, and attach training wheels. For a short while, I will pretend to know everything, and cherish my standing as guidepost and protector. I will wipe tears and rub noses. Encourage, praise, and punish; support, console, and eventually release. From tricycles and ice cream cones to recitals and rebellion, however messy or disappointing, whatever the outcome despite the expectation, unconditional love will prevail. With boundless depth. Empty diaper or full load.

Either that, or I’ll just institutionalize the little bastards after they hit kindergarten, and grovel for their sympathies once I contract Alzheimer’s. Greater dysfunctions have been overcome when an inheritance check lies on the line.

30 comments:

Ron said...

Hey, MVD...first of all I was happy to see that you had posted.

Second of all, this post is friggin' fabu! Your last line was hysterical.

Funny, because for as much as I LOVE kids (babies, especially), I know my patience would be dramatically tested. However, I've been told by so many people who felt as though they wouldn't make a patient parent, ending up being extremely patient. Apparently, something "magical" happens to you once you become a parent (so they say).

The perfect example is Joan Crawford.

bwhahahahahahaha!

Ron said...

P.S. Yepeee...it worked!

Chris said...

I shudder to think about what your first parent-teacher conference would be like, what with the Essential Offspring driving said teacher batty.

Loved the "exploding into diapers" bit.

Theresa said...

Yay, your comment section is working now. It wasn't when I first stopped by. WTF?

Anyway, hilarious post. And do I detect the impending pitter patter of essential bastardian feet?

MVD said...

"I've been told by so many people who felt as though they wouldn't make a patient parent, ending up being extremely patient."

You know, Ron, I'd have to agree. Although I find most children to be incredibly annoying (not to mention an affront to romance and freedom), I'd go above and beyond for my own kids. I suppose anything born from one's ball sac seals a firm bond.

MVD said...

"I shudder to think about what your first parent-teacher conference would be like"

If genetics rings true, Chris, I'll be dealing with a shy, shrewd, dirty deviant.

MVD said...

"And do I detect the impending pitter patter of essential bastardian feet?"

Like I'd mentioned, Theresa, at this point I could be shooting blanks. Perhaps some quality time in the drug-addled ghetto would set my libido straight. Those iced up thugs make procreation look so easy.

f8hasit said...

Welcome back! You've been missed.

WE, here in the blogosphere, have been malnourished without out frequent doses of 'Bastard'.

I personally never had dreams of 'being a mom'. Hadn't the desire. The whole process scared me. Fact is, when I found out I was expecting I just sat down and cried. Everyone around me thought it was because I was SOOOO damn happy about having a child. But in fact, it was because I could hear the wheels on my world as I knew it coming to a screeching halt.

No more jainting off to Snowmass to go skiing on a whim, no more joining my husband on business trips at the flick of a hat, no more tyrists in the middle of the day (unless the baby was sleeping or we hid in the closet)...

But now, I can't imagine life without my daughter. All my fears? Yeah, there were some restrictions...but all the 'full loads' are worth it. Although I NEVER babbled in baby talk to my daughter...which is why her vocabulary is where it's at now.

Hope your 'vessel' isn't empty. But enjoy finding out!
It's worth the ride my friend, worth the damn ride.
:-)

Jen said...

Having children is one thing but if this site turns into a "daddy" blog I may have to boycott. Who am I kidding? I'd still be reading whatever you toss on the page. Good to see you back amongst the bloggers.

MVD said...

"WE, here in the blogosphere, have been malnourished without out frequent doses of 'Bastard'"

Hey Nancy - I eased off the bastardacious nourishment to remix the batter. But the recipe's the same, albeit with a higher Scoville ranking. And, well, I'm also grappling with the annoyance of new employee paperwork.

MVD said...

"but if this site turns into a "daddy" blog I may have to boycott"

If this site turns that corner, Jen, I'll flagellate my back until the skin breaks.

Suldog said...

Damn! That's about the best post on babies EVER. It's almost as though you invaded my brain and typed out my thoughts. I bow in your general direction.

bluntdelivery said...

1. where the crap have you been?

2. i pretty much agree with everything you said regarding children. God help any future offspring of mine.

3. you can't microwave potatoes?

MVD said...

"It's almost as though you invaded my brain"

Suldog - I've crawled in like that earwig from "Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan," nesting comfortably in a spongy fold of brain matter. It will not be easy to smoke me out.

MVD said...

OK Brit, just because you asked nicely...

1. On July 6th, I re-entered the working world. Not only am I squeaky clean each morning, but I no longer scour through dumpsters for 5 cent aluminum can refunds (i.e. the mortgage payment), nor do I loiter outside McDonalds after closing, bartering my dignity with hobos for the following night's dinner.

2. God help my own spawn as well. If they can't keep up with me, I've got no qualms pawning them at a church bazaar.

3. Do me a super favor. Microwave a whole potato without poking holes in the skin. Then write a blog about the outcome. Next time around, repeat the steps, but wrap the potato in tin foil.

Matt Shea said...

Wahey! Good to have you back, Mike. I considered that you may once again be employed and it got me thinking about the kind of jobs you could do and write at the same time. Here's a quick list:

1. Video Shop Man - you've gotta do something while you rewind all those returned tapes.
2. Vacuum Cleaner Repair Man (non mobile) - If you did this in a rich neighbourhood you'd have all the time in the world to post on Bastard. Rich people don't use vacuum cleaners, they use minorities.
3. IT 'Consultant' - This job pretty much means you have to stay up all night in an office watching somebody's mainframe. What to do to pass the time? It's either posting on The Bastard of looking at dolphin porn.
4. Fast Food Joint Supervisor Man - Everybody knows that the store manager at your local Maccas spends little time flipping burgers and a lot of time flipping cards in Windows 3.1 Solitaire. The keyboard's action may be a little spongy from air born burger grease but if you do the graveyard shift you'll have all night to correct the typos.
5. Judge - I've seen the trials where the judge has a computer in front of him to check his stocks - perfect. Actually, you could just get the stenographer to type it for you.

Just a few suggestions.

As for kids - not on purpose but one almost killed me a few years back (I wish I was making that up). I've steered clear ever since, preferring the company of grown-ups and ladies.

Danielle said...

Good to see you back. We all missed you. I am guessing through all of the above shit, you will be an awesome daddy. You can join the rest of us mindless mom and dad bloggers. You will be able to reminice about the good old days sans kiddos.

MVD said...

Hey Matt - I'm thinking "Office Mail Delivery Man" might've been an equally shrewd choice for one opting to maintain a full-time blogging schedule. The hirsute mumbler who makes a twice daily jaunt around the floor with newspapers and mail spends his remaining hours trolling the internet on a supply room PC. And when he’s not surfing iniquitous sites in that walk-in closet, face cast in pale blue, he’s comatose at the front desk. For all I know, the guy could be dropping blotter acid with his morning coffee.

"Rich people don't use vacuum cleaners, they use minorities"

And thank you for that slice of politically incorrect pie. I'll have another please, with whipped cream.

MVD said...

"I am guessing through all of the above shit, you will be an awesome daddy."

Aw, thanks Danielle. Such a sweet comment, that I can't bear to tarnish it with sarcasm.

blunt delivery said...

1. you have a real job now? this blows.

2. please don't call our future children spawn.

3. i feel like this is some kind of set up...

MVD said...

Brit: "you have a real job now? this blows."

Translation: Oh, so you're leaving the house more than once a week, reintroducing soap to the daily routine, making mortgage payments without fearing the impending doom of mom's pull-out couch, and interacting socially on a regular basis? This blows.

Finally, see step #2...
http://www.ehow.com/how_2058648_microwave-potato.html

Anonymous said...

:sniff:

Such a disturbingly funny and touching post, I have never read.

By the way, would you babysit my 3 yr old next weekend.

Oh...I'm here from Blunt's place. Congrats, yo!

MVD said...

Welcome to the circus, Pinky! Stick around, as I promise to ramp up the frequency of posts once I ease back into Corporate America.

Does your three year old smoke? It's important I know that before arranging for weekend custody.

Bobby Allan said...

Awwww..you'll make such a good Daddy.

Carissa said...

Loving the first few posts that I saw here...will definitely come back for reads...:)

Nανєєη said...

"Greater dysfunctions have been overcome when an inheritance check lies on the line"

lols

growingupartists said...

I don't know. I'm just afraid no one on SNL will like Seth Meyers anymore if he ditches them for Letterman's old spot. Plus, his brother might show up.

MVD said...

"I'm just afraid no one on SNL will like Seth Meyers anymore if he ditches them for Letterman's old spot. Plus, his brother might show up."

Growing Up Artists - You leave the carnival in a huff back in April, slinging furious barbs which (bizarrely) liken your environs to a cultural megalopolis, only to return making less sense the second time around. While I enjoy the sly wit of Seth Myers, I find it difficult to relate SNL's Weekend Update to anything in the above post.

As always, you're way off the reservation ... but a welcome voice here nonetheless.

growingupartists said...

I prefer to be unwelcome, thank you very much.

Ashley S said...

Too funny! "Toddlers are boring". Aww... :)

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