Congratulations! It's a bouncing baby...story!

Kids Think The Darndest Things

by Busola Soyomokun

"Wakey, wakey sleepy head..."

Why the hell do GrownUps always append "ey" to words? It doesn't add any meaning to the word. It doesn't help extend our vocabulary. It doesn't even make the word sound any better. At least not to me. GrownUps are so dumb sometimes. Anyway, I'm gonna just lie still and pretend I didn't hear her.

"Wakey wakey little angel..."

Must... lie... completely... still. Maybe she will remember that hot pot of oatmeal on the stove or remember that she left the water running in the kitchen sink. That'll buy me at least a few minutes. Maybe even more if she forgets about waking me up after she runs off...

"Come on Boo-Boo, time to get up!" What the hell kind of nickname is "Boo-Boo" anyway? It's the same name as poopie, which is clearly the most disgusting stuff in the world. Nobody plays with boo-boo, nobody keeps boo-boo around, nobody wants to show boo-boo to their friends or gives boo-boo birthday presents. Does she really think that low of me? She certainly treats me better than that, but maybe she just feels obligated to. Cause she gave birth to me or whatever. I can't imagine she actually thinks its a cute nickname. But like I say, GrownUps are so dumb sometimes....

"Boo-Boo, let's wake up now and start the day." Christ, Lady would you leave me alone?! You don't even know the hell I went through at preschool yesterday! 10 hours is not enought recovery time from a day like that! Oh nice, she's patting my back again. Not the nice, gentle pat she uses to put me to sleep. But that incessant pat-pat-pat-pat that GrownUps with nervous energy use to tap their feet when they have to sit for a long time. That really grates on my nerves. Usually I just start cryting or throwing stuff to drown out the noise but I can't do that when I'm pretending to be asleep. Ok, the patting is getting ridiculous now. I can't take it anymore! I'll go ahead and roll over.

"Aw, there's my little sunshine! Good morning darling!" Mommy says with the biggest smile on her face.

"Good morneen Mommy" I say with a yawn, rubbing my eyes.

Ok, I'm gonna skip the mundane details of going potty, brushing my teeth, combing my hair, getting dressed and eating breakfast. It's just as boring as it sounds. I'll get right into the good stuff. preschool. It's the best part of the day. I get go to go on a trip and get out of that old boring house and go somewhere where I can play all the time! I get to go to a big building with blue bricks and yellow windows and red doors! And play with other kids! Finally, kindred souls who know my struggle and understand my joys and my pains! I remember when life was easy. Back in the days before they made me go potty. When I just pooped on myself and they changed me. Or I cried and they got me out of a soaking wet diaper. Or I cried and they fed me some food. Or I cried and they put on some soft music and rocked me to sleep. Gosh, that was before they wanted me to follow their "rules." I don't know if I completely get it, but they're like these things that you can't do or that you have to do - for no good reason whatsoever except that they're rules. For instance, there's one called "sharing." Here's an example of how it works: I'm supposed to let some crummy kid play with the toy I just had (MY toy) when I, having had the toy several seconds longer, am more experienced and skilled at playing with said toy and therefore deserve to keep it in my possession for as long as I like. Why would I give it to some bumbling kid who has no idea how to properly handle it? Or here's another: I have to let some other loser kid use MY red crayon (it's mine because I picked it first) when I want everything in my picture to be red. Therefore I need to use it for the entire Coloring Time because I, unlike some other less talented "artists", do my absolute best to stay inside the lines, so of course, it takes me longer. I'm supposed to give up my stuff for somebody else for what? Because it's a rule?? I call bullshit. But the GrownUps are always there to enforce them. Threatening to take something away from me, or even worse put me in Time Out, the most awful thing you can do to someone. It's really dreadful. GrownUps make you stand in a corner by yourself with nothing to play with or look at. And you have to be quiet and stay in that corner for a completely absurd length of time! It has to be against the law to inflict this kind of torture on young people. I'm sure if Officer Steve who visited our class last week knew what these GrownUps were doing, he'd haul them off to jail in a heartbeat.

Anyway, Mommy takes me inside this building to the Three Year Olds classroom. It's the best room ever. Very bright and colorful. Lots of windows to see outside. And they are pictures around the room of animals (and letters that match the first letter of the animal's name!) And there's numbers too, and pictures of food in quantities that match the number. Like the number 4 next to four red apples. My favorite number, color and fruit! Then there's toys everywhere! Legos, building blocks, trucks, a trainset, a kitchen, puzzles, a cashier's box and grocery cart, dinosaurs, there's a lot! In the back of the class by the sink, we have paint, crayons, scissors, glue, construction paper, markers, play-doh, all the stuff I need to redecorate the room. It's colorful alright, but sometimes it could use a little more. Like the brown letter 'G' that goes with the yellow and black giraffe. I spruced that up with some red and blue paint yesterday, but Ms. Nancy was all "That's a no-no Spencer" and totally ratted me out to Mommy. And it's not like Mommy had any sympathy for me. A couple weeks back I thought I'd do her the favor of breathing some life into that wasteland of a living room. So I went into Daddy's office and got some of his markers (mine come off too easy) and drew some fantastic pictures of our family, our house, and even my school! I mean it was some of my most brilliant work to date! You'd think she'd be grateful, but no, what does she do? Put me in Time Out. What the hell?! I missed The Backyardigans for Chrissake! And I never miss The Backyardigans. It was cruel and unusual punishment. They say time heals everything, but I don't know if I can ever forgive her for that.

Anyway, back to my morning at preschool. Mommy takes me over to my cubby hole and hangs up my backpack and attempts to take off my jacket. I'm like hold up lady, I'm three years old now. I got this.

"No Mommy, lemme do it!" I insist, pushing her hand away.

"Okay, sweetiekins. You can do it! Mommy's big boy!" She can fit a lot of teeth into that big smile of hers.

Yeah, that's what I thought. I run this show. I pull off my jacket as quick as I can and let it fall to the floor. Now she can hang it up. I have important work to do. I run over to the train set and begin smashing the trains into each other. I need to understand the physics of why there is no explosion. Last night when I was supposed to be in bed, I snuck down stairs to see what Daddy was watching on TV. Two big trucks crashed into each other and kaBOOM! Exploded instantly! I want to make a KaBOOM! Pretending is fun, but the real thing is even better. And there has to be some way to make it happen. So this is my personal goal for today. I think my mom said bye, but I was too intent on the task at hand. She understands I'm a busy guy and can't be bothered with these formalities, so she exists the room and runs of to go to Work, wherever that place is.

"Ok everyone, time for Morning Circle!" Ms. Nancy says, beckoning everyone to come over to the soft shag rug and sit in a circle. She's a tall lady, taller than Mommy but not quite as tall a Daddy. She's got long, straight brown hair, and big sparkling brown eyes. A pretty lady. So when she calls I come over and sit down on the rug. Then we start to sing the Good Morning song where we greet everybody in the circle.

"Let's start with Bailey" Ms. Nancy says with a big grin as she sits down in the big chair at the top of the circle.

"Good morn-ing, our friend Bailey, so glad to see you. Good morn-ing little Sarah, so glad to see you."

And then there was this doodiehead Timmy. You could say Timmy was my arch nemesis. He was always taking my stuff and being a real jerk about everything. Like expecting me to share with him when he never shares with me! Yesterday, he pushed me down the sliding board before I could step onto it, and I fell over and slid face first right into the dirt. I was a little stunned, but managed to get up rather quickly to turn around and confront the little brat.

"Ha-ha-ha! Spencer is a doodie-face!" Timmy taunted. I had brown dirt all over my face, so it kind of looked like doodie I guess.

"I'm not your friend! You're mean!" I stared back at him with the most spiteful look I could conjure up. I started brushing off the dirt on my face

"Doo-die-face! Doo-die-face! Spen-cer is a doo-die-face!" His songwriting skills were lacking, but one or two other kids started to catch on. Funny how the stupidest songs become the most popular.

So I threw a rock at him and hit him in the nose and he started bleeding and he started crying like a little biatch and told on me. A little blood and he goes all soft, effin loser. The other kids stopped the dumb doodieface song in fear of my mighty arm, and resumed playing as if nothing ever happened. And I was the one who got in trouble. My punishment? You might have guessed it - spending the rest of Outside Playtime in Time Out. Completely absurd! But I took it like a man. I knew Timmy got what he deserved, and that comforted me as I stood inside in the classroom in the corner, staring at the blank corner of the wall. Listening to the muffled sounds of my classmates laughing and squealing with delight.

So today during the Good Morning song, when it was time to say Good Morning to Timmy, I was silent. I'm sure he got the message. He knows it's on.

(To Be Continued...)