On The Fruit Like Essence Of The Father/Son Relationship
This morning, Jackson poured some apple juice and I had one of those reflective parenting moments when you can’t believe your kid is actually doing something. I mean for one thing, he used to not be anybody, which is weird to think about because now he can pour juice. Then, for the longest time after he became somebody, he would just scream “JUICE!” and I’d ignore him until he said “please”, acting like I care about manners when I really just like the subtle power that inheres in ignoring people.
But these days, when he’s confronted by the issue of thirst, he’s armed with all the means to quench it. So he pours himself juice! In a glass! I bet this kind of thing was the source of Biblical exaggeration. Moses’s kid probably poured his own juice for once and Moses was like “and the Lord caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind that night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were divided.” and Moses’s kid was probably all “Yeah yeah, whatever Dad. You’re a flippin comedian.”
Anyway, he poured himself some apple juice, which is - as you know - just terribly yucky stuff and I poured myself some orange juice, which is – as we all know – incredibly delicious and refreshing. “Hey look”, I thought, “My life is a cliché.”
Jackson and I express our love for one another with cruelty so I sorted through some ways to rag on him about apple juice. There’s a big commotion in the blogosphere right now about words like “retarded” and “gay”, which makes me want to say them more, so I almost said “Dude. Apple juice is totally retarded.” or “Apple juice? That stuff is so gay.” But, really, did I want to expose myself to the attack on my parenting that using such words would undoubtedly solicit? Of course I didn’t. So I settled on “Dude. How do you drink that stuff? It looks like cow piss.”
Jackson grimaced. He had a mouthful of apple juice but, via the magic word power of language, he couldn’t escape the image of cow piss, which is gross and funny. The poor guy couldn’t even swallow. Which didn’t make any sense to me because I would much rather swallow cow piss than hold it in my mouth and let it keep firing off my taste buds. But Jackson, the little jerk, solved the dilemma by spitting it all in my face, spraying me with cow piss. Instinctively, I looked for a knife.
Jackson and I are entrenched in deep, deep ruts of impersonal roles whose power runs much deeper than the scope of our own wills and desires. We are meant for battle. Born to fight. Cut out in patterns that necessitate strife. Before I could locate a knife, Jackson smashed me in the face with his glass and cow piss flew everywhere. I tasted blood in my mouth. Fragments of glass rang off the kitchen tile and I clenched my fists. This is the fate of fathers and sons. Apples and oranges.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Reader Comments (20)
oh my, I worry that I enjoyed that a little too much...
Apple juice seems even more like cow piss when you drank it just hours before the raging food poisoning you got from Long John Silvers rears it's ugly head.
I didn't drink it for 12 years after that.
And really? Juice is just weird in general.
There is something going around the blogosphere about using the word retarded? That's so....well..you know...
Stories like this aren't gay or retarded. They're crazy. Are you crazy, BHJ? Are you raging against something?
now for the burning question:
do you drink OJ with or w/o pulp? bc, in my opinion they are like 2 entirely different juices based on the consistency.for some reason i've you pegged as a pulp-less BHJ, which leaves me somewhat distraught.
say it ain't so?
I love pulp.
My dad makes apple juice for a living. It's disgusting. I drink orange.
I have a daughter. She is almost two. The idea that our relationship is built on "roles whose power runs much deeper than the scope of our own wills and desires" flickers at the back of my brain occasionally and both inspires and terrifies me. This is bigger than parenting the way your parents did. It's biological...is it keeping the species going, that urge to spit apple juice in your father's face? That need to scream ourselves hoarse, proclaiming us both similar and different than our parents and children (apples v. oranges)? Maybe so. And who do we become if we turn our backs on those urges, those older-than-time impulses? That's what I don't know.
Instead of saying "retarded" or "retard", I just say Trig. Like, "OMG, he's such a Trig!" or "Apple juice is for Trigs."
Two birds, one stone.
I am glad to hear that someone ohter than me has a cruelty based relationship with their boy - there's love and respect in it that no one gets but him and me.
I did that same thing to my three year old daughter, except the roles were reversed. She probably didn't deserve the glass in the face but now she knows not to fuck with Daddy. Orange Juice drinkin' beeeatch!
Trig. Thanks for that, CapreeK. I just pissed myself.
i laughed, but am left wondering: if your son is old enough to pour his own juice, why aren't you packing a knife? i mean, you got busted in the face with a glass by your kid, how embarrassing is that? clearly that could have been avoided if you had been palming a shiv. and, you never know when he will start trying to kill you in your sleep.
dude. for your own safety: always have a blade handy.
This one is the best. The most controlled, concise and damaging one yet.
But what do you feel about grape juice?
OMG LMAO! IThis is one of your first posts I have ever read (got to this site through a link to your using blogger posts). I am thinking I need to do some more reading to really get the true understanding of you. Either way you made me laugh and thank you!
my 2 year old can pour his own juice. Sadly he cannot reach the cups, so we have a kitchen floor that's sticky and damp or crusty and crawling with ants. Also, he can punch me in the nuts with his fist when facing me, or with his elbow when facing away. And last night he kept getting off the potty to crap on my bedroom carpet, running out from the bathroom to a spot next to my bed which I typically prefer to keep shitless.
If "gay cow-piss slurping retard" is all you've got in reserve, with all your experience and weapons training, I fear for my physical integrity, so say nothing of that of my floorcoverings. I have given up on my nuts, since they obviously gave up on me years ago.
This doesn't make me OMG LMAO...It makes my heart hurt. Knowing you as I do...., which is not all, I'd say you're not apples and oranges. I think you 're looking in the mirror, or maybe your son is. I can't tell..
Your Son is, what 13? What's your excuse?
I do like the way you write, and I don't mean to be disrespectful of your post if this should come across that way.
The stage has been set...or the ring i should say
I think Becky's been drinking cow piss...