When I was young, I use to listen to my dad’s old Bill Cosby stand-up tapes. I loved them! I thought he was hysterical, although, looking back, I evidently had no IDEA how spot on his routine was. My absolute favorite of his was “Bill Cosby, Himself”. I watched it to death, and if it weren’t for being on VHS, I’d probably still watch it. I don’t remember the whole routine. I remember it started off not exactly about kids, as he was praying to the porcelain god (ironically, that’s how many children get their start. but I digress), but it sure ended that way. I don’t know what exactly I was thinking when I watched those tapes. Couldn’t have been thinking much, and I certainly couldn’t have been thinking “OMIGOD THAT’S SOOO TRUE!”, because, c’mon. I was, like, nine. I don’t even know why I was watching Bill Cosby (that really ought to tell you what a weirdo I am… being nine & watching stand-up comedy & all). Anyway. I don’t why the hell I thought it was so funny, but I did. Now? Yeah, sure… it’s funny. IF IT’S HAPPENING TO OTHER PEOPLE.
I have one kid. One. Not two.. not three… and it’s a good thing. I don’t know how you people do it. Honest. You guys that have two kids seven months apart (yeah, shut-up)? No idea how in God’s name you’re alive. Because Gabe is not even two yet. And as I mentioned before, we’ve hit the terrible two’s pretty damn early. I swear, sometimes I feel like he’s hired a stunt double & I’m just not seeing them switch off. Seriously. And if I find out that’s what has been going on? Well. I wish I could say I’d be ticked.. but I think I’d be relieved to know that my child is not, in fact, a mighty morphin’ heathen. But anywho. Back to Mr. Cosby. Finally, I understand what he meant by saying that you repeat yourself a million times. And no matter how loud you get, no matter how slowly you repeat it, they will look at you like YOU’RE the two-year old, and then proceed to run out into traffic, while holding scissors, chasing a snake.* Also, I, too, have become a stutterer. You heard me… and you all know it well.
The Stutterer: n. parent who, when made frazzled, will barely spit out his or her child’s name. Will call out a list of names (relevant or not) before getting to “the culprit”, and whose tongue will duck and dodge at any swear word that may attempt to break loose from its leash.
Ah, yes… I’ve become that parent. I have become victim to toddlerism. You know what I love? I love when Gabe’s throwing his high chair tray on the floor (for the 100544561546th time), watching me, the entire time, thinking that maybe, just maybe, if he looks at me hard enough I’ll be scared into submission. Or when he “quietly” throws his cup at the TV (again)… thinking that maybe I won’t hear the thud of plastic hitting our TV screen (which is quite a hard thud, I might add). You’d think I wouldn’t have just taken a psychology class. That I have no idea what is possessing my child to act so… well, possessed. Unfortunately, I do. But that’s not helping any. Those psychologists were all wackos (one even put his kid in a box to “condition” her [perhaps he had the right idea? kidding!]).
Anyway. To make a long point short, Bill Cosby was genius. I’d give him my second born, but am pretty sure it would come back marked “Return to Sender”.
“Even though your kids will consistently do the exact opposite of what you’re telling them to do, you have to keep loving them just as much.” — Bill Cosby
*No Gabe’s were harmed in the production of this blog.