Every morning when I leave my house I am accosted by a group of about one hundred children. This is a difficult thing to describe in terms of enjoyment. That is to say, do I like being accosted by one hundred children every morning? Someone taught them all to say “ta ta!” to any white person they saw, and having one hundred small children wave frantically at you and scream “ta ta!” in unison is a heart meltingly adorable thing.
As their curiosity grew they would approach me, at first only the brash/stupid ones that Darwinian selection would get if only society were not here to stop them from poking snakes or crawling into dark caves (the ones that either die young or grow up to be Bear Grylls). When one finally got the courage to hold my hand I did what any man would do, I started roaring like a lion while picking them up and pretending to eat them. They were at first terror-stricken, but after a few thrilling moments of the white hot, blinding fear that only a child can feel they began to actually want to be picked up. A few of them developed the unfortunate tendency to try to eat me back. Since then leaving my house has become something of an issue.
Every morning I am quite literally blockading by one hundred screaming children. They lock onto my legs, weigh down my arms, climb up me like a tree—and while at first my lion gig was good enough to get rid of them they now think its rip-roaringly hilarious. My threats to kill them are lost because these children are too young to speak Portuguese, and while my shitswa is good enough to scream “go away!” at them it has no effect. So I do what any man would do, I run away.
So for the last month or so you will see me leaving my yard dressed in a button down collared shirt, slacks and dress shoes, cradling my man-purse as I run as fast as I can past a pursuing mass of crazed children. It’s a lot like 28 Days Later only I can’t shoot them.
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Dear Col:
ReplyDeleteHilarious! It has been a while since you have written and I know you are busy with end of the year activities. You capture a wonderful and perhaps universal....children and affection no matter the form! I remember early on when you wrote about the packs (my description)of young men that hang around and shout insults at you but have the same curiosity and desire to be included as the little ones. I am not sure what Malcolm Gladwell would say but I take great comfort in these seemingly universal behaviors. It gives me hope that we can really effect humanities slide back in to the caves. I have to believe that we all want and need the same things...even the Palestinians and Israelis must individually want those things...why don't they understand that? Currently, we are in pre-gubernatorial nonsense, elections next month. Meg Whitman is attempting to buy the election and Jerry Brown has not improved with age...another opportunity to vote for the least worse or would it be the best worse?? But we so get to vote. Much love Mom