My Inner Brat

I’m sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room, channeling my inner child. There he is…about six years old…sitting in the warm Coney Island sand, making a sand castle…trying to get a channel made just right so when the edges of the waves came in, some water would flow up into the pool he dug, behind the castle walls where the imaginary alligators lived. He’s a happy kid, about to have his first real fist fight…when another kid…a few years older…came walking along and purposely kicked down a castle wall.

It wasn’t much of a fight. My inner child just got so mad, he got bratty…jumped up, and smacked the other kid in the face…which neither kid really expected…and the other kid ran away. It was just a quick, automatic reaction that got my inner child the results he wanted that day…but occasionally got him in a lot of trouble as the years went on.

Change the channel to a few years later, and that same kid is starting the sixth grade. His voice is cracking, his face has pimples, and he is standing in line next to a girl by the name of Theresa, who was about the same size and shape as he was last June, at the end of the fifth grade…before summer vacation. But suddenly this September, Theresa is now taller than he is, and in many other ways, just as all of a sudden, looks nothing at all like him. And because she is taller than he is, he finds himself staring right at two of the places where she looks nothing at all like him the most. He’s not doing it on purpose…sort of. Theresa doesn’t seem to notice him, but the teacher, Sister Mary Knucklebuster does. And she has a hellfire, damnation, and stay after school while I call your parents look in her eye. Honest to God, the kid was just standing there minding his own business…feeling his pimples blow up, and hearing his voice crack as he’s trying to explain that he really needs to go to the boys room…right now.
It’s a Brooklyn kid’s rite of passage.

Dick’s Details Quiz. All answers are in the current podcast.
1- What do lots of new parents like better than sex ?
2- What gives 9% of American men a shit eating grin ?
3- What’s a Louie-Louie Lad’s favorite way of saving water ?

Dick’s Details. They take your mind off your mind.

All these years later, I still don’t know if Theresa really wasn’t paying attention, or if she was just faking it…so to speak. It is so hard to tell with persons of the feminine persuasion. Big Louie, his own bad self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation explained guys very easily. He said, “The way to find out if a guy is feeling sexy, is just check to see if he’s breathing.” He’s right. We’re guys. We’re easy.

Darwin says both men and women sprung from the apes. But I think women sprung a little farther than we did. Every time a woman takes something off, she looks better. It’s the exact opposite with a guy. Women always know where everything is. That’s why they always ask directions. We don’t. We need to look like we’re in control at all times. I have actually heard myself say “I’m not lost. I know exactly where we are, and where we’re going.” The last time I said that was last Monday. My Lady Wonder Wench said something like, “Oh my god, we’ll never be seen alive again.” Ha. Here we are. So…it took a little while. We got to see things.

But do I like being in control. Always ready for any emergency. That’s why my Lady doesn’t expect me to help with the dishes any more. She knows I’m busy being ready for an emergency. They teach you that in flying school. Step number one is you’ve got to look and sound bored when you talk to your passengers. “Ah folks, you may have noticed that the left wing is on fire, and part of the right engine has fallen off. So…we’ll be landing a little sooner than scheduled.”

But seriously, I think most Louie-Louie ladies like it when their Louie-Louie lad knows how to take control when stuff hits the fan.

There’s a story in the Bedtime Stories personal audio cd, and in the current podcast, about a guy who lost control…and wishes he could get it back. It’s called, On The Prowl.

It’s about playground sounds, and squeaky boards, laughs and tears…the sounds of a love affair. And eyes…I like eyes. My Lady’s eyes are blue. So far, they seem to get larger when she’s looking my way. My life would be in very big trouble if that stopped happening…as I know it has for a couple of you. Maybe more than a couple of you.

I don’t know how I’d deal with it if it happened to me. But I got a note from a proud podcast participant named Anita just now. Maybe there’s a clue there. It says, Life isn’t about making it through the storm. It’s about learning to dance in the rain.

It’s a good idea…but I must admit…I’m not a good dancer.

On The Prowl is from the Bedtime Stories personal audio cd. If you like it, you can just keep the current podcast. Or if you want a fresh copy, just download it from the Bedtime Stories icon on the home page.

I like to channel my interior child. He was a semi-good kid. Good enough I guess. Except at times like when Theresa showed up after summer vacation looking like…that. I don’t know if most women like to channel their inner child. I don’t think my Lady Wonder Wench does.

I think my inner child would have felt a lot better about his exploding pimples, his cracking voice, and his quick trip to the boys room, if he could have known that eventually, I’d be changing the channel to the one starring my Lady Wonder Wench.

One Response to “My Inner Brat”

  1. sgtyukon says:

    Sister Mary Knucklebuster? I don’t recall you going to St. Dominic’s. Don’t tell me you also had Attila the Nun! And especially don’t tell me there was more than one of either of them?

    Did the nuns stand around in the boys’ room at your school too? My cynical wife claims they did that to protect us from the priests.