Sunday, December 17, 2006

Honey, Our Neighbor's A Swinger...

Sometimes you find yourself doing shit with other grown-ups that just kinda freaks your shit out, if'n you think about it too much.

Take yesterday - the weather was great, so the spawn and I ventured out-of-doors to see what the neighbor kizzles were dizzle... ing. Now, for some reason, four kids, aged five to nine, can't seem to get their shit together without roping me into their goddamn activities. First, they decided to play tag, but apparently you can't play tag with only four people, so I had to join in. And those fuckers are fast. Between trying not to blow my knees out as they were jukin' around me, and trying hard not to infarct while attempting to escape their reach, I just about passed the fuck out.

Luckily, they got bored with tag pretty quickly. Then, it turned into freeze-tag, which was a little better, because at least I was able to get frozen, affording me ample time to stuff my lungs and bronchii, which had prolapsed onto the lawn, back into my heaving chest. Then they tired of freeze-tag, as well. They have the fucking attention span of a gnat on meth, these kids.

So, while they were whinily debating about which torturous game should come next, the neighbor kids' dad came home and joined us on the lawn. He's a nice guy, and I was looking forward to having a conversation with someone that didn't involve the phrase, "NOT IT!" So, we started shooting the shinola, when the kiddlies decided that the next game was going to be Statue Maker, and both of us adults HAD to play. I tried to call "Customer," but I was beat out by Miss O. My next choice was Statue Maker, and, luckily, I was chosen as such.

Here's where it got a little weird. I spun each kid around, so they could turn into their stupid-ass statues, all of which involved screaming at the top of their lungs and running around and flailing their arms like an orangutan with its balls on fire. Then, I realized that I had to "spin" the other dad. At first I tried to balk, but the kids all shouted, "Go on, dad, spin P!" Busted. So, I grabbed his hand and started spinning him around. I wish I had a fucking camera, because it looked like a scene out of the gayest production of "The Sound of Music" ever. The only thing that would've made it more awkward would have been if I had spun him with both hands, instead of just the one. As it was, it was pretty fucking bizarre.

We made sure that, for the rest of the time, one of us was either the customer or both of us were statues. I guess the weirdest thing about it was that it's one thing to occasionally talk to someone on the lawn -- rapping about work or kids or... I don't know, lawns. It's a whole 'nother egg, though, when you suddenly grab that person's hand and start twirling them around. Seriously, try it. Go up to your neighbor, tomorrow, and extend your hand. When they reach out to shake it, start spinning them around and then let go. And then go up to them and whisper in their ear, "Okay, what statue are you gonna be?"

And then come back and tell me that it wasn't a little fucked up.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

At least you were not playing "potty tag."

crabbydad said...

Oh, they wanted to, Nora, but we dad's nixed it. I never would've been able to face him again if I had to flush him.

EOB said...

Statue Maker? Potty Tag? Are these Michigan games influenced by your Canadian neighbors?

I think the Mrs. would like to swing our neighbor into traffic. But she's too busy typing up a formal letter of complaint about the barking. She's very close to going Son of Sam. But I think it's the 8-month-old demonic fetus giving her orders.

Anonymous said...

Things that would've made it creepier:

1) Humming "(I've Had) The Time of My Life" while twirling him.

2) Holding eye contact with him while twirling him.

3) Biting his earlobe after whispering "What statue are you going to be?" in his ear.

4) Telling him that he's the most "Finely Chiseled" statue you've ever seen.

But yeah, I still wouldn't go over and borrow a "cup of sugar" from him.

Anonymous said...

Bruther:
Yesterday we took W to see the Nutcracker with her 3 1/2 year old friend and the friend's dad. The friend kept leaning over to tickle me under my chin during the performance. I had W (no small 4 year old) on my lap, so I was somewhat encumbered as I was trying to reciprocate a little tickle. Horrifyingly I ended up reaching sideways to try to tickle her arm and landed on the dad's hand, tickling away. It was only moments before I noticed the size (and hirsuitness)of the hand before I casually slipped my hand back into my space. I spent the rest of that act wondering if said dad thought I was offering a little nonverbal proposition. I got all sweaty. --Seester

crabbydad said...

EOB -- D should take the dude out. The raging hormone/pending birth defense would totally get her off the hook. It's time for this dude to go. Make it happen.

Jon -- I already feel weird enough when I see the guy, and now, thinking about biting his earlobe... well, I think we just have to move.

Seester -- Hilarious! Just be careful if he offers you a handful of popcorn from the bucket on his lap at the next performance. And no, that's not hot butter.

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