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.