Oh, how I now long for those days.
Be assured that we are now in full-blown Terrible Two mode. It cannot get worse than this without fatalities.
I feel that the best way to demonstrate to you the extent of irrationality on display is to imagine what a conversation might be like with him right now if he were a fully grown, supposedly mature adult.
Me: So glad you could come over. Can I get you a glass of wine? A beer?
Oliver: No.
Me: Oh. Not a drinker. No problem. Any other beverage? Water?
Oliver: No.
Me: Soda?
Oliver: No.
Me: Iced tea?
Oliver: NO NO NO.
Me: Not thirsty - roger that. Anything to snack on? Cheese and crackers, perhaps?
Oliver: Chee. Cacka.
Me: Coming right up. It's so great to catch up, by the way. Are you still at Becker & Greenstein?
[Slams door]
Me: Yeah, no, you're right. Let's not talk shop. This evening is about good friends reliving good times. You seeing anyone these days?
Oliver: No, no, NOOOOO! [Hits wall, throws truck]
Me: Oof, okay. I won't press, but I promise you I've been there, too. Dating is hard. Here are your cheese and crackers, by the way.
Oliver: No chee! No cacka! [Throws cheese onto floor, hits crackers with palm, flings cracker bits] Foo bah. Poe.
Me: I am sooo sorry. I am plum out of fruit bars and pouches. Do you want me to run out real quick?
Oliver: No cacka! Dow! Dow!
Me: Oh, God, yes, go ahead. I was an idiot to presume you'd want to eat at the table. Please - get down. Let's chat wherever you feel comfortable.
Oliver: [Runs to closet, sticks hand into litter box] Mow mow poo poo.
Me: This is...unbelievably embarrassing. I should have scraped before you got here. I'm like a Neanderthal.
Oliver: MOW MOW POO POO!
Me: I deserve that.
Oliver: NO NO NOOOOOO!!! [Hits my leg, collapses in heap on floor, tries to eat baseboard]
Me: Oh, Jesus. You're having a seizure. My grandmother used to have those. Who should I call? Should I call someone? Do you have your medication on you?
Oliver: NO NO NOOOOOO!!! NO MO! NO MO! BEAH HUG! NO NIGH-NIGH! MOMMY HUG! UN MO BOOK! [Grabs and pull's cat's tail]
Me: Shit, I think you're having a psychotic break. I'm going to call 911.
Oliver: SHUS. NO SHUS! [Removes and throws shoes] NO SOSS! [Removes and throws socks] LEGGO! LEGGO!
Me: Oh - "Let It Go?" You want to do some karaoke?
Oliver: Watz? Watz? Leggo... Esha?
Me: Oh... I wish we could watch Elsa but my dish just went out last night...
[Screams with the breath of a thousand dying men]
Me: Shit. Shit. This night is not going well.
Oliver: Daddy hug?
Me: Yeah, sure, I'm right here for you, pal. Whatever you need. Is this better?
[Squirms out of my arms, stomps to coffee table, throws decorative basket]
Me: Maybe we should reschedule.
Love it, Todd!
ReplyDeleteI don’t see the problem. He’s very clearly telling you what he wants and doesn’t want in the same breath. You’ll survive. He might not though.
ReplyDelete