An Interview with Patrick

For this blog post I managed to catch up with Patrick, my son’s favorite stuffed animal. Let's just say that things didn't go as I'd planned. For one, we didn’t have long, as Simon was out with his mom at the grocery store. But the other thing was, well, you'll see...

Patrick is a bit edgy when I caught up with him, dabbing out a smokeland staring out of the front window.

Patrick, it’s great to catch up with you.  Hey, you smoke?

Yeah man, whatever, cut me some slack. I'm on break...

Uh, great. So, what’s it like sleeping with Simon?

He leaps from the window, grabbing me by the neck. We fall to the floor and things start off with a bang. 

Really, seriously? What do you think it’s like? Look at my face man, I’m covered in drool. My fur is all matted and my tail. Oh man, my tail….that kid of yours, yeah, he’s a piece of work.

He lets me go and I catch my breath. This is going to be a tough Q&A. I can tell Patrick has a lot on his mind.

Uh, okay. So, uh...

Let me tell you something else, too. While you and your wife are laughing, your kids a sociopath. Like the other day, when he was waterboarding me and—

Whoa, whoa, Patrick, do you mean when Simon dipped you in the dog bowl. I told him not to do that. It was just a little monkey business, that's all.

He shoots me a look that could melt a banana peel.

Oh man, aren't you a funny guy....want to catch me by the tail? We could monkey around some if you'd like....now I need you to shut your trap and listen. I have a plan. You open this window, pitch me into the bushes, when that little crumb cruncher comes home, you just look the other way. Got it?

 I can’t do that, Patrick, Simon loves you. 

Yeah, love. I was in love once. I spent my days on the beaches of Barbados, sipping rum and watching the endless blue waves crash into the white sand. I had a girl, her name was….

Patrick, let's try to stay on track here.. it can't be that bad, hanging out in the crib, nice and cool in the ac. I mean, it could be worse, right?

This is bad man, just bad. And I’ve had some pretty awful gigs, too. I’ve seen some stuff, man. That circus in Guatemala, a petting zoo in Phoenix, I thought this was going to be cush man, but it I was wrong, man, wrong.

Hmm, that explains the accent. 

He’s a good kid, Patrick...

Pfft, good kid. Look at my face.

I take a good look at the loose stitching of his smile, the dark discolored patch on his face, he'smissing tufts of hair. I see the teeth marks on the pull string handle of his tail. He fidgets, the eyes darting about the room. He leans in close, his voice low and trembling.

Let me tell you something else. You’ve got that dog trying to nibble on me whenever I’m left on the floor. And by the way, can you not involve me with the diaper change, is it not enough that I put your kid to sleep night after night, you want me to wipe his little tush, too?

Geez, Patrick, I didn’t know you felt so...

Hang on pal, I’m on a roll. I’ve got yogurt all over my back, so yeah, I think I’ve earned it. First off, I’ve been doing a little research, and this little operation you got going is illegal pal. You think you can just lock me in here? I’ve been on the clock for oh let’s see, 24 hours a day for three months, you do the math, I’m done here...

Okay, Patrick, you’re obviously a little worked up here, so let’s just...

Worked up? Hey look, I just want you and that wife of yours to start pulling your own weight.Try raising your kid without me for a change. Oh, he’s crying, toss in old Patrick. When he's in that crib and can't sleep, guess who's being ripped apart like a coffee cake at book club. Now, look, open the window...

We're all done here Patrick, back to the crib....