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Tuesday
Jun262012

iPhone Post IV

My daughter is a Pumped Up Polar Bear and my son is getting mouthy. She was trying to write a cheer for camp when I suggested "We are the Pumped Up Polar Bears / We like to chill out and we got white hair / It's cold in here / C-c-c-cold in here." And they're shivering, you know? She said it needed something about sushi. I'm like you. No idea. But I press on: "When we're in our igloos it's time to get nice / Bring us raw fish all wrapped up in rice / In other words sushi, salmon, tuna / Don't bring it later, man, please bring it soona." But none of this is the point.

The point is that my son says "Man, dad, those are some sick rhymes." And, HERE, at this precise moment, my son crossed the line between being a sweet little boy who loves his daddy and being a sarcastic prick bagging on his old man.

"Easy, Trigger," I reply, "It's only been a few years since you stopped pooping your pants."

"And you stopped wiping my butt."

The look on my face prompts my daughter to say "Oh it's on."

My open hand whizzes toward his face but he snatches my wrist in the air and we freeze. Somewhere, snow falls on the soft white fur of a lonely polar bear. The sound of memory. Full moon reflected in the still, still pond.

"Dad. You're 40. Your time has come and gone. I beg you. Do not proceed."

I headbutt his face. He crumples to his knees. I say "40 is the new your nose is broke, little man," which sounded way cooler in my head than it did in real life. My daughter says something about how much braces cost and mom being mad and stuff like that. I tell her hush.

My son stares at me like he's going to do something. I say "You look like you're going to do something. What you gonna do?" He goes right on looking like he's going to do something so I yell "DO SOMETHING IF YOU'RE GOING TO DO SOMETHING!" So he shoots lightning bolts out of all 10 of his fingertips.

Now where the fuck did my son learn to shoot lightning out of his god damn fingertips?

It was really zappy and irritating and I couldn't control any of my own functioning. SO pissed. At first I wondered when it would stop but then I zapped into this timeless state that identified with the suffering humming at the core of all things. It was really cool but I was still super pissed. I remember thinking no more video games and back on your meds and subjectivity is a myth but then, nothing.

The son must kill the father.

Reader Comments (10)

Your IPhone posts have fast become my favorites, as of late. Keys and smoke and lazer fingers and some Shakespearean absolutes. Good shiz. Don't be go getting a new laptop anytime soon.

June 26, 2012 at 10:35 AM | Unregistered Commenterquix

cracking up.

June 26, 2012 at 11:45 AM | Unregistered Commenterkate inglis

In 7 months I'll be forty too. Does it mean I won't be able to head-butt my 4yo boy to teach him a lesson? I've been waiting 4 years for his head to get hard enough, and now it's too late?

June 26, 2012 at 12:31 PM | Unregistered CommenterBloggerFather

Loved this.
Wait a minute, so my almost 3 year old isn't supposed to already be besting me with her sarcastic wit and lightening bolts out of all 10 of her fingers yet?
Hmm. So she's advanced. She can't remember her abc's after W but she can damn sure smile and wave at me from time out, the 3 year old's version of the finger.
We shall have an interesting life.

June 26, 2012 at 2:02 PM | Unregistered CommenterAmelia

Remembering back here...to the time my mom was chasing my brother around with a broom (this was the early 60's), and my brother suddenly stopped running, twisted around, and grabbed the broom out of her hand. She didn't turn and run, but she looked like she wanted to. And then there was the time (not too long after that) when she slapped me. I told her if she ever did it again, I'd slap her back.

She was a good mom, but she had a lot on her plate...four kids, three of them boys, and she didn't get much help from my father, who was always out of the country. Mostly, she was fun, adventurous, and very loving.

I don't believe in hitting kids. But, until you have your own, you have no idea how completely perfect is their capacity to provoke the impulse.

June 27, 2012 at 9:01 AM | Unregistered CommenterClare

u r the mutherfuckin coolest

June 27, 2012 at 12:17 PM | Unregistered Commentertk

Man. I never thought I would forget the exact name my daughter called me that day I threw the canned espresso that still stains the kitchen ceiling. Evil demon-whore something, but that's not it. They grow up so fast!

June 27, 2012 at 7:48 PM | Unregistered CommenterS

Sick is a compliment these days-- that means cooooool/

July 1, 2012 at 4:13 PM | Unregistered Commenterlindajones

This just wins.

July 6, 2012 at 7:50 AM | Unregistered CommenterHolmes

Yea I'm confused about why you got upset about him saying dad those are sick rhymes as "sick" means "great" "cool" etc these days. Was he being sarcastic?

August 13, 2012 at 2:02 PM | Unregistered CommenterWendee

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