Monday, February 14, 2011
A Squishy "Balen-times" Puddle...Two Years Ago A Love Story Began
So I have noticed that the older I get the more I find that those short people that toddle around, spin until they get dizzy and get excited by the sprinklers, not only tolerable, they can be down-right adorable. I was one of those, “Not really a kid person…you know except for my own” but it seems that something is changing. Not sure if it started when my son became a young man, no longer finding it hilarious when I puffed my cheeks up and bugged my eyes at him. Could be that my “clock” is creating a shift in my space time continuum or it just may be that 2 years ago the cutest kid, (again aside from my own) moved in across the way from my apartment.
When they first moved in he was just a baby, so I gave him little or no attention other than the typical “Oh great…a baby” comment, complete with eye rolling and a snotty teeth sucking sound. I envisioned late nights having to endure that squealing, new baby cry, or worse, being face to face with the family on the way to my car, having to say, “Oh isn’t he cute” hoping to God that they wouldn’t respond, “Oh thank you. Do you want to hold him?”….because ya know…I didn’t. Wasn’t him, just not into babies, I find them texturally unsound, too soft. Don’t’ want to hold them too lightly and risk dropping them when they make those random jerky movements and don’t want to have a Lenny, (Of Mice and Men) moment…too much pressure for something I didn’t want to do in the first place.
I was never rude, I would wave when I saw his parents, they are a very sweet couple…so sweet in fact I almost forgot the kid was there. Never heard him cry, or the once or twice I thought I heard something their front door would quietly shut and the flicker of baby sound was hushed. It was almost 9 months after they moved in that I really noticed him, noticed more bang-bang-banging, giggling and every once in a while I would peer out my window watching this tiny toe headed kid, hands gripped to his mother’s fingers for dear life while he was learning to walk. This was when I first noticed those little pangs of, “Awe”.
Another couple months and he was teetering around pretty good on his own, although he still needed assistance getting up on the stoop….not much you can do with 4 inch legs and all, and he began to discover his voice. He would stand at the screen belting out these sounds from way down in his tiny little tummy, he would do it for like 40 minutes at a time. Deep grunting almost guttural sounds could be heard floating across into my apartment, but all I could see was the very top of his not so tiny head, and the outline of his bitty self standing there with his palms pressed against his chest, letting the vibration tickle his little digits. This began the chuckling on my part.
Well it has been all down-hill from there, he has learned my name, he yells across the courtyard at me, he re-named my husband, (Carl) Call-o….something we all call him now, and when I’m not home he yells to Call-o, “Hi-lo Call-o, where Sham iz?” and when he is told I am still at work he responds, “Okay, I tell her later den”….dude. Long time readers have heard me gush about him before, I’m a goner, he won me over; big blue eyes, white blonde hair atop his generous melon and a disposition that makes him irresistible….oh and he even has a little shirt that says, “ladies man” on it….seriously, this “one tough nut” has been cracked wide open and I am infinitely happy watching him putter around the courtyard and find that I am totally bummed when he is gone all day…..can you say, sucker? (Shaking my head)
So today….today he one upped himself in the book of cutest things ever department. I saw the screen open, I saw his mom with a paper plate in her hand and I saw him come bounding across the patch of grass that separates our apartments. He placed his lighty-up shoes on our stoop, to show us again….you know that they light up and his mom handed us the plate saying, “Tyler made these for you. Tell them what it is Tyler”. “I made Balen-times cuck-cakes” (Melting) he responded. “This one is your Sam” his mother told me while pointing to the cupcake that had a little heart candy that said, “Cup Cake” on it….I stopped myself from snatching him up and giving him big ol’ hugs right then and there. “I use da mixer, put fwas-ting and sprinkles on dem” he beamed….it’s over, my hard as nails act is finished….big tough looking girl reduced to a pile of goo by a 2 ½ year old and pink cuck-cakes…..sigh