Monday, September 9, 2013

I Like To Party...


At times, living with my son can be like living with a drunk.  It’s not like we’re rubbing moonshine on his gums or anything, but there are some times (every day), when I notice the similarities between my 7 1/2 month old son and a loud, red faced, sweaty drunk.  Like say,oh I don’t know, the crapping of his pants. The laughing at me while I’m cleaning his butt and look down to find a piece of said crap stuck to my thumb and I scream like a girl.  The unsteady drooling, the upchucking, the wobbly stare similar to that of a late night Waffle House guest.  When you put this all together, it’s like being sober at Mardi Gras.

When he sits, it’s like he’s on one of those inflatable exercise balls.  Rocking back and forth, he sometimes falls flat on his face, or his back, wherever the wind takes him. I’ve known a few friends who had that problem after a couple of shots (ahem, yes friends). His head tilts, begins to lean, and if it sways too far in one direction, well, down goes Frazier.  I have to watch this guy at all times.  Just when you think it's safe, he’s trying to eat your phone.

With no teeth, he sucks in his lips and chews on his gums. He mumbles gibberish, sticking his out his tongue like a misbehaving orangutan.  Or sometimes exhaling in a high pitch sigh of exhaustion.  At first I wondered why this sounded vaguely familiar, but then I realized that its usually the sound a drunk makes after the lights have come on and the bartender is trying to cash out. 

Anyone who has let a drunken friend crash at their house knows what I mean.  My son is like an episode of drunk history, without the history. Or words.  He can be rude and fussy one moment, and my best buddy the next.  When he’s hungry, he demands the boob.  He likes the bottle, but he loves the boob. The other day while sitting with mom he plopped his face in and started motor boating.  Upon coming up for air and seeing my reaction he was thrown into a slobbering fit of laughter.  The guy's a riot. 

After a meal he’s prone to passing out.  Actually, he passes out whenever or wherever the urge strikes. Most of the time he’s in a great mood, just like a happy drunk, but mood swings are prevalent and can strike in an instant. His merriment can suddenly vanish, giving way to a full on meltdown, often times shifting back to giggles before I have fully registered what exactly was the problem. Which reminds me, I once saw a guy so drunk he passed out while he was crying.  I never thought I’d see that again.  But I see it a lot, it’s called bedtime. 

Occasionally our little Billy Madison wakes up disheveled and upset at the world, I come in and he laughs.  I beg him to sleep, but there’s no talking sense into this guy, he just tries to eat my nose.

Yes, the times are, well, interesting.  So here’s to parenthood, and sobriety for that matter, they kind of go hand and hand…


4 comments:

  1. Makes me think that all those fun nights at the bars were preparation for parenthood? ...*shrugs* lol

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    1. Sounds good to me Stevie, at least something good came out of it!

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  2. Hilarious-you've captured the essence of this age in a nontraditional way that hits the nail on the head. A fun read.

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    1. Thanks Denise, glad you enjoyed it!

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