Friday, February 29, 2008
Freaks of nature
My children are brilliant freaks. How could they not be, look at their mama. The brilliant part, not the freak.
Yes, they are brilliant freaks, and not in the conventional sense, although I don't think there is a conventional use of the word freak. They don't read, write, or speak another discernable language. They are not Picasso's, mini Mozarts, or baby Einsteins (although they really like that show!)
They are brilliant freaks in their own ways, like mutant superheroes. I guess all those x-rays I took while pregnant without donning the lead vest (that things heavy!) created superbabies. Bug is faster than a blinking eye. Blink once, he's gone, and all you can do is follow the sound of stomping feet. (He runs a bit flat footed, just like his daddy, whose also freakish.) He is also an escape artist extraordaire. No child safety device, door, or gate can hold him. He simply watches you while you install it, then within a few days, he's successfully demonstrating the child like sponge mind that he has. It's really frightening how quickly he evades capture and successfully completes his mission. His superhero name: the Scarper.
Boo is his wing man. His superhero name: the Punisher. He's very quickly learned how to make another child or an adult submit to his will, either by batting his stunningly beautiful blue eyes (complete with girlishly long lashes that I want to pluck and put on in place on my own) or by an unending whine that will make adults beg for mercy. (Really, I beg, and offer bribes. I'm weak, I know.)
Punk's final superpower is still as yet undisclosed, but I suspect its going to have something to do with men. She already grins and they melt. Really, into sticky little puddles that I then have to scrub and mop up. Very inconvenient. And they occassionally leave stains. Her superhero name: Poisen Oozy, of course!
So now you see why I think my kids are brilliant freaks. They've managed to turn their frightening child powers into lucrative hobbies that I'm certain will one day become fantastic careers that will probably have me seeing them only on visiting days. I'll be so proud!
Honestly, I'm very proud of my children. They are sweet (most days) and wonderful and more entertaining than any reality TV show. And they are all mine, for better or worse.