"Two faces are better than one." I admit, as a Gemini I have always said so. But now that my spawn has inherited my charming characteristic I am beginning to change my tune. One face is fine. One face is enough. One face is simple and wonderful and easy to deal with.
Last night we went to an Oscar Party for twenty minutes. En route to our friendz apartment we were all sunshine and light. Dr. Happyface played peek-a-boo with me and we sang songs about rainbows and gave eskimo kisses and laughed and laughed and laughed. We parked the car and skipped to the door of our destination, smiling and babbling in the elevator. Dr. Happyface was as charming as he looked, dressed to impress in plaid and baby-trenchcoat.
But as soon as the door swung open and faces appeared, fingers outstetched to shake Dr. Happyface's hand, Mr. Grumpalicious took over, possessing our sweet, gentle creature with the shrieks and wails of a frenzied pyschopath. Suddenly Mr. Grumpalicious grew claws and clung to me with such will, my arms bled. (Okay, my fault for not cutting his nails this weekend, but still.)
We watched the beginning of the Oscars, rocking Mr. Grumpalicious, making funny faces, introducing him to Hollywood hotness. "Look, Mr. Grumpa, Jessica Alba! Not your type? Kiera Knightly? Too old. Rachel Wiesz' fetus?" unfortunately, even the promise of a Jewish girlfriend (suffice to say Wietz and Arofonski are having a girl. Whatever, we're liberals.) wasn't enough to stop the insanity. We scarfed down cheese and chilli, determined to capitalize on our cameo appearance. When nothing was working and the baby screams were no longer "Aw. Sooooo cute", we waved goodbye to our single friends, accepting the award for Most Fashionable Temper Tantrum in an Oscar Party. "Mr. Grumpalicious, a few words?"
"Raaaaa, raaaaa, raaaaaaaaa, rarararararraara. raaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Sniff, sniff, raaaaaaaaah."
"Thank you, sir. And that's our time."
As soon as the doors closed behind us, the rainbows appeared and the sun and candy fell from the rafters and all was sing-songy and cheerful again. Dr. Happyface smiled and cooed, tears still ripe in his eyes. The boy laughed down the elevator and giggled all the way home. Dadz and I looked at each other and shook our heads.
"Our son, the misanthrope."
"Sure sign of genius."
"Actually, I am hoping this is just a phase."
"Um, yeah. Me too."
Back at home Dr. Happyface played with the dogs, kicked his little legs and scrunched his nose at me like the perfect angel he is. At home. Alone. I swear.
GGC
13 comments:
I have Mrs. Chatty Pants and then Mrs. Stare in silence at all people like they are weirdos.
That's so funny. I just love the stories you tell about him. And such great ammunition to throw at future significant others, be they celebrity children or no!
You have the amazing ability to take even a simple event that every parent experiences and turn it into a great read. Oh, and I'm so bad with keeping up with the nail clipping. SO bad. I have the claw marks on the face (and neck and arms and belly) to prove it.
Hilarious. We have angel child and spawn of satan (said with love, said with love) Great post...I so understand this!
A boy who knows how to work it!
I think *I* have that disease. I'm glad to know I'm not alone.
:)
Yup, I have one of those. But I want to know where you find a baby trenchcoat. Princess P (as she is called in our house) must have one of those.
When Lumpyhead is less-than-sociable, we just tell the people we're with "Hmm, he must not like you."
It's so much easier to say to your friends than, "Gosh, I'm so sorry my child is shrieking in your ear. He's usually not like this, I swear."
meredith-
there is a store in town called Flicka (Larchmont Blvd) and they have baby trenchcoats. They have baby everything (and their season sales are awesome)) Unfortunatley they have no online store. :(
Sometimes the babes calm down if you give them a minute to acclimate... sometimes. I've spent quite a bit of time sitting outside places. Outside the restaurant, outside a friend's home.
They DO grow out of it though. And move right into the loud, friendly screeches of happiness. sigh
Hmmmm.... yes. The pacing. We do that too and then we end up camping out on stoops until little man falls asleep, by then the party is over. hee.
ooooh so you're a gemini.. No wonder you wear those wacky earrings.. I totally get it all now.
He screamed because he didn't see a red carpet for his entrance. LOL
Post a Comment