Okay, if you hate posts on Kids and me, then you'd better switch to another page coz this ain't gonna be pretty.
Ah who are you kidding. You love hearing about me being antagonized by kids.
Okay, so about a week back, my Mom invited this lady and her two sons over for lunch.
Her two kids were of the ages 9 and 4 (and to answer your burning question - No, I didn't hit on 'em. Wisass.)
So the older one - let's call him 'A', was a pretty nice kid. Soft-spoken, mellow, made intelligent conversation and was overall a gem of a kid.
The younger one- let's call him 'CRAZY', nah kidding, let's call him 'B', was a total hyperactive nutcase. You will soon see what I mean.
Of course the minute they arrived, my Mom, via a series of extremely complicated and nuanced 'looks' instructed me to shadow the two kids so that there didn't end up being any breakage, spillage or cry-age by the end of the afternoon.
B is a big fan of Kelso (or 'Canso' as he likes to call him) so the minute he arrived, he spent much of his time hounding Kelso. I followed him as he followed Kelso. We arrived at Kelso's water bowl.
"Make him drink water from there.""He only drinks when he feels like drinking."B then knelt down and I became horrified as I watched him lower his face to the water bowl.
"HEY!! What are you doing?!""Can I drink from Canso's bowl? I like pretending I'm a dog!""No!! You're not a dog! Up, UP!"He pouted. I shook my head and my mom called everyone to the table for food.
We proceeded to eat..and I kept an eye on B. He took out one pasta shell, and proceeded to zig-zag it across the table. I watched him quietly...and then I glanced at his mom, hoping she'd nip his vandalism in the bud, but she was too busy talking to my mom.
I watched, horrified, as he used the pasta shell as a medium to create a very disgusting piece of tomato-paste artwork on the table.
"HEY. Don't do that....dear." (The mom chose to look NOW.)
He slyly grinned at me. I frowned at him.
"Mahi, help him wash his hands." Trilled out my mom.
I saw B running into the kitchen towards the sink. Now the sink already had a dish that had been emptied at the dinner table and was hence quite dirty. B squealed in delight and started splashing his hands about in the dish that had water and remanants of the food that was in it.
"HEY!! What on earth? Stop that! That water is dirty! Wash your hands properly under the tap!" "No, no! I like washing my hands in dirty water!" *Splash, Splash*
I firmly (BUT GENTLY!) grabbed his wrists (in a sort of wrist lock, if you will) turned on the tap and washed them until they were all nice and clean. He ran off waving his wet hands about. I'd loved to have them dried too but hey, I'll take what I can get.
"Mahi, give the boys their ice cream." Sang out my Mom.
I opened the ice cream box, peered in and ....shit. My pig of a brother very generously left only half a cups worth of ice cream.
"Oh don't worry! B doesn't even like ice cream that much! Just give him a few teaspoons of it and give the rest to A." said his Mom.
B doesn't like ice cream? Uhhhhh-huh. He finished his share and started bawling his eyes out -
"I want more ice cream!"I panicked slightly (like I always do when someone starts crying) and said
"But B, darling, there's no more left, would you like some chocolate instead?"He thought about my offer for 2 seconds, turned to look at A (who was just only starting to tuck into his ice cream), brightened up and said
"No, no it's ok! I'll just take A's ice cream!" and as simple as that- he took A's cup of ice cream and happily started digging in.
I stared open mouthed at B and then at A and then at B again.
Dear, sweet A just smiled sadly and said
"It's okay...." and shrugged as if to say
'What can ya do, eh?'My heart just
melted.He reminded me of me when I was his age. Like B, my brother would constantly take my stuff too, except the only difference is instead of letting him get away with it I'd punch him and take it back. 'Kay so we're not THAT alike, but still, I
felt for him y'know?
B gave me a victorious chocolate-ice cream-y smile. I frowned at him and turned to A and asked
"Hey would you like chocolate instead? I have LOADS. I have this and this and this type.."
"Sure! Can I have 2 of this type? " He broke into a happy grin and seeing that, so did I.
"You can even have 3 if you want."
"I want chocolate too" announced B.
"Too bad. You took your brothers ice cream so no chocolate for you." Just call me Sherriff Mahima. Heh heh.
So A was happily tucking into his chocolate and talking to me about his favourite breeds of dogs when I suddenly spied chocolate ice cream-covered B trying to entice Kelso into licking the chocolate off his hands, and Kelso being the greedy bastard that he is, was only too happy to oblige.
I FREAKED.
In case you guys didn't know - Chocolate is like poison to dogs.
"HEY! Wash your hands!!""No, no it's okay, I'll just wipe my hands on my shirt!""The hell you will."I marched him to the bathroom.
"BUT I DON'T WANT TO WASH MY HANDS."I put on my low, sinister voice -
"Do you want Canso to die?"He paused (HE PAUSED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and said
"Hmm..no...""Good. Neither do I. Now wash your hands because if a doggie eats chocolate, he will die." (Well he may not DIE but he'll be violently ill and I just don't want to take that chance)
Phew.
So I sat with A to have a conversation. We talked about our favourite breeds of dogs when suddenly we were rudely interrupted by -
"I LIKE DOGS AND PUPPIES AND CATS AND KITT-UNS AND HUMANS AND BABIES."And B carried on chasing Kelso, who would occaisonally seek safety in my arms but not without giving me a "Thanks-a-LOT-Mahi-Thanks-for-the-HELP" look first.
I sat on the sofa opposite B and his mom (who was, once again, really busy with talking to my mom, who in turn was once again very busy listening) and much to my horror he turned around, grabbed our delicate lace curtains and started cocooning himself in them. I gaped at him..and then slowly looked up. I saw a couple of curtain hooks giving way.
"HEY!! S-s-top...don't do that!"My mom looked at me and followed my horrified gaze upwards.
She got up, unwrapped B and said to him sternly
"Don't.do.that." while his Mom just gazed on adoringly at her little monster. He just gulped and looked down. My mom can be intimidating sometimes.
Go Mom!
Alas, the day was getting late and they decided to go back home.
Outside I took A to the side and imparted some first born-to-first born advice-
"Hey A..don't let B bully you okay?" "I don't...but I love him...I like to watch out for him...." said A. This is kid is adorable.
"I know you love him, but fair is fair..don't give in to him all the time." and I gave him a hug. Fine, okay I gave B a hug too...but it was a very half-arsed hug coz the kid was filthy.
This event made me realise a few things -
1) I have a soft spot for the underdog.
2) Kids are dis-gus-ting sometimes
3) As hard as I try I'm not one of those people who can turn a blind eye to yuckiness.
4) Running after kids is tiring. I came down with a cold that evening.
Kudos to you mothers out there!
Labels: kids