“I’m telling you
lil’ buddy, she didn’t like me the second I walked into her stupid, round
office,” I was telling Chuck forty-five minutes later at the playground as I pulled
a juicebox out of the diaper bag.
“Ah well, forget
her, right? Hey, so I didn’t get the
job. I already have a job, right?”
“Rats!”
“You got that
right, lil’ buddy,” I said. “Hey, so
Rats won’t be in charge of medical billing for the Saint Who Gives a Crap
hospital, right? Big freaking deal.”
We sat next to
each other on a park bench, with Chuck distributing cheese Goldfish between the
two of us. I looked like I was three
hours into a wedding reception: still in my interview pants and interview
shoes, dress shirt un-tucked and unbuttoned, tie barely hanging on for dear
life.
I wiped orange
cheese powder on my crumpled dress pants and Chuck, seeing I needed my Goldfish
refreshed, grabbed another handful with his tiny fist and shoved them in my
face.
“Rats! Mo gofish Rats!”
“I have to tell
you something, lil buddy,” I said to Chuck on the bench. “The day is coming when I ain’t gonna be able
to be here with you. You’re gonna be out
here, with who the heck knows who.”
I was sweating
more than I normally did on a regular basis, which of course would make this a
frightening amount, and felt like I was losing my breath. Looking at Chuck, I saw pretty much what I
thought I’d see: Chuck, bored. Not even
remotely moved by my little speech. Even
cooler than usual, to be honest.
“Mooooooo! Moooooooo!”
The retard chorus
was warming up for their matinee, but I stayed focused.
“Listen,” I looked
Chuck in the eye, as best one could look a two and a half year old
Goldfish-riddled-to-the-gills kid in the eye, “you’re gonna be three years old
in a few months, and you’re gonna start going to school. This is it for us.”
“Rats!”
He was standing
still, looking at me.
“Moooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”
I took a slug of
my Diet Coke, which he mirrored with his juicebox. Finishing it, he slammed the empty box to the
ground.
“More apple juice,
Rats!”
Without even
thinking I dug into the bag to hand him another one.
“You know,” I
informed him, “it’s only cool to do that if it’s a beer can, and there’s pretty
girls watching.”
He took the fresh
box and clamped his mouth down on the straw, still standing in front of me
without moving, as I rambled on and on.
I could hear myself speaking, without knowing what the hell I was
saying. I sounded like I was running a
race, and felt like I was running out of time.
“Look, lil buddy,
I –“
“Rats!”
Thunk! Another emptied-out juicebox hit the ground,
and Chuck started to slide down off the bench, eager to finally go play. He’d heard enough.
“Rats! Les play, Rats!”
“You got it,
buddy.”
But just before we
headed over to the jungle gym, I couldn’t help but grab him and turn him to
face me.
“Hey, lil buddy,
listen: whoever takes care of you after me, you gotta do one thing, okay? You listening, lil buddy?”
“Rats!”
He was trying to
pull away, but I held for one more moment.
“If they ain’t
playing with you the whole day, they’re no good. Remember that. You let them know that, right?”
He was looking at
me, but instead of listening to every word he was pissed, wondering why the
fuck he wasn’t on the jungle gym. I
still had him by the little shoulders.
“And remember, lil
buddy: Curious George is ALWAYS
ON. If not, there’s always ten or so
episodes recorded just for you, so if they try to tell you that you can’t watch
George so they can watch some stupid reality show crap or whatever, they’re
lying. Don’t fall for that, okay lil buddy? Curious
George is ALWAYS ON!”
He was moving to
get away from me and go play. Enough was
enough. It was time to let him go, and I
eased my grip on his shoulders.
“Mooooooo! Moooooooo!”
The retard chorus
was in full, glorious swing. We’d have
to hope the cops took those kids away in a few minutes.
“And one more
thing I’m gonna tell you. Chuck,” I said.
“I’m changing, starting right away.
Trish has been nagging me for months to go to the gym with her. I’m gonna do it. Starting tomorrow, I’m gonna do it. Lose about a cow’s worth of this butterfat
for once, right lil’ buddy?”
He was squirming
to get away, so I completely let go.
“I love you, lil
buddy!” I held my arms out for a hug.
“Les pay, Rats!”
He ignored my hug
and shot off towards the monkey bars.
Jungle gym. Whatever the fuck it
was.
“Aight, lil
buddy,” I followed right behind him, my hands ready to catch him if he
tripped. “Let’s go play.”
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