“Your baby has a big … big … BIG BIG HEAD!”
Posted on December 4, 2012
Dear Random Child at Swiss Chalet,
Thank you for telling me you liked my baby. This was very sweet and you immediately won me over, which is saying something because the truth is Little Bit, that I do not like babies or kids other than the ones that get ripped from my belly. So, you’re cute and you’re probably thinking that your high cute factor buys you the ability to get away with things. All kinds of things! Right? Hell, I am no stranger to that idea. Kid, I invented that idea. You think my Dad ever yelled at me? How do you think I acquired all the hair accessories and toys I had when I was your age, hmmm? I smiled and made my Dad laugh and he fell over himself bestowing gifts on me. I know how children (the cute ones) wield their assets against the world, but you know what you little pisser? That means I am wise to you.
Now, I won’t hold anything against your mother. She had two other little ones she was trying to wrangle into winter coats when you moseyed over to our table. Maybe I would take issue with her having taught you to speak in the first place, but that’s all in the past now
and apparently nothing can be done to get you to shut your pie hole. When you were standing there next to us, no taller than a chair, saying how you liked my son I thought “Aw, look at this little tyke! What a little sweetie pie,” but then of course you continued on when really, you should have stopped. But how I was charmed by you, how I was deceived by you. How naive of me…
My son is a mini Jedi in training. His Dad? An actual Jedi. That means trouble for you
you little twat boy, my son is a mini Jedi in training. His Dad? An actual Jedi. That means trouble for you. But that’s not all my son is, being of “The Force” is just the beginning. My son is unique. He is extraordinary and a beautiful little imprint of my life so far. He has my eyes and my husband lips; he is the perfect mixture of two of the strongest, bravest and prolific heritages: Mapleton blood and Huyghebaert blood. Jonah Alexander is a king among men, okay? He will one day rule the country you crawl around, and trust me he will always remember what you said. And, if he doesn’t, I will. I am a Ukrainian woman (STRONG LIKE BULL) and we live forever. You will never be rid of me.
You may have slipped by my husband because all the chicken and chalet sauce he ingested obviously dulled his senses and his comebacks, but I was not in a mashed potato, stuffing and gravy induced coma. I heard you. And, yeah. Maybe at the time I was too distracted by Bestie’s honking and snorting at your comment to really give you what-for, but I’m telling you if I ever see you in the street, I’ll have a comeback for you that will knock you on your tiny bum, Kid. You got that?
In conclusion, don’t be a porky mouth. I would like to remind you that words carry power. Real power and unleashed rather un-thoughtfully they can get you in heaps of trouble. Especially when you point out characteristics or physical attributes that maybe some of us are trying to hide. I will repeat that my baby is beautiful and as close to perfection as you can get. You on the other hand, well … you have the advantage of age right now, but one day mister, my son will use his “big…big… BIG BIG BIG HEAD!” to outwit, out last and out play you. BAZINGA!
Love, a card-carrying member of the Ukrainian Mafia.