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5:57 a.m. - 2001-11-02

Alright then. Yesterday was Andrew's first birthday party at his daycare.

Andrew goes to a lady's house...sweet, quiet woman...Miss Robin. Miss Robin is actually Mrs. Robin and has three teenage kids and has done a great job in raising them. Her house is always clean, she's good with kids, that's why we picked her.

This isn't going to be a slam against Miss Robin.

Oh!

DANGER WILL ROBINSON...DANGER!!!

In this entry, I may go off on some certain fat people. If you are overweight, this is by NO MEANS a slam on you or any person that you may personally know that's overweight. These diatribes are directed at the people that I, Uncle F'n Bob, interacted with yesterday. PLEASE...for your own safety and sanity...DON'T TAKE THESE SLAMS PERSONALLY.

And for God's sakes...NO EMAILS!!

Okay.

So back to our story...

Susie and I get there and we decorate for the party in the kitchen. Andrew didn't even know we were there, which was pretty cool. We snuck in the back and the doors were closed and he was pretty shocked to see us. He had a little baby coronary, and luckily Miss Robin knows CPR and brought my little angel back to life.

So there's four kids and Andrew there. Everyone's getting along great. Andrew had his first taste of chocolate cake and did the pre-requisite smearing of it all over his face like a good one-year-old. I DID get pictures, I just haven't had the time to upload them yet. I'll do that over the weekend.

Everything's going good. Kids are all behaving...everyone's eating cake and ice cream (except for me...WHAT WILLPOWER!!!) when the doorbell rings.

Ding-dong!

Oh.

Look who it is.

Nathan and Kate.

Nathan and Kate are a brother-sister team at Miss Robin's. Out of all the kids Miss Robin watches, Nathan is the oldest. He's 4.

Which would make him over three years older than Andrew.

If this was high school, Nathan would be a senior and Andrew would be a freshman.

Nathan is ... a big boy for his age. He probably weighs 40 lbs. or so. He's chunky. He's basically a fire hydrant in underoos.

This kid was by far, one of the most ill-behaved children I've ever witnessed in my life.

As soon as he got there, he was yelling. Not in pain or anger...this is how he communicates.

He immediately commenced kicking the other kids. Not shin kicks...this kid's been watching too many Jackie Chan movies or something. Each kick was punctuated with a "Hiiiii-ya!"

I say "kicking the other kids". He really only kicked two kids. His sister and Ian...the other four-year-old boy.

Ian was an angel until Nathan showed up. Then Ian transformed into a hellion too.

So those two were kicking and slapping each other over and over again.

Here's my impression of Nathan's mom:

*ahem*

(clears throat)

"Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit..."

Okay...I've only been a parent for a year now...but I have a suggestion, Ms. Nathan's Mom...

ROCK YOURSELF OUT OF THAT SITTING POSITION YOU'RE IN, GET UP AND GO BEAT THE HOLY LIVING SHIT OUTTA THAT FAT ASSED KID OF YOURS NOW BEFORE I GET UP AND BEAT HIM WITHIN AN INCH OF HIS HYPERACTIVE LITTLE WHITE TRASH LIFE!

But no.

Y'see, Mama had way too many fat rolls that prevented her from getting up off the floor unless it was an emergency.

And by "emergency" I mean if there was any birthday cake left and nobody wanted it.

Nathan proceeded to run around, hitting all of the kids. The only thing I caught on tape was him giving Andy a series of punches to his shoulder and ribcage.

Keep in mind...Andy's 1 today...Nathan is 4. Andy's 20 lbs and can't even walk...Nathan is playing "Jump over Andy as he sits on the floor."

I also watched Nathan knock on the top of Andy's head like he was a pumpkin and was checking for hollowness.

Another baby there, William, is about 15 months old. Nathan kept trying to jump over him as he sat on the floor. At one point, Nathan's foot didn't quite clear William's head and William went down like a sack of potatoes, hitting his head on the floor with a thud.

"Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit... Nathanstopit..."

When William hit the floor, Miss Robin gently took that little fat assed bastard into the kitchen for a time out. One minute later, he was back out in the den, kicking and chopping on Ian.

Meanwhile, White Trash Mama sat on the floor, picking cake crumbs out of the carpet and eating them.

I sat there, steaming mad, but not really wanting to be known as the Daddy who freaked out at his kid's birthday party and yelled at everyone.

I was at least content in the thought that Nathan and Kate were going to another daycare and no longer came to Miss Robin's anymore and were only there for Andy's party. That thought alone is what kept me from beating the holy dog shit outta the kid.

Andy racked up as far as gifts go. Nothing that I'm personally interested in...but he seemed to like them.

Until we got home anyway. And then he headed straight for his empty and ragged Mylanta Gas Drops box which he carries with him everywhere like a security blanket. Screw the toys, Pops. I've got my gas drops box now.

When they had finally managed to get White Trash Mama off the floor to leave, she insisted that Nathan and Kate give Andrew a birthday hug.

Uhhh...huh...no...that's okay...really...you don't need to...

...Nathan ran over to Andrew and squeezed him just enough to make him want to cry but Andrew knew better than to cry.

Everyone left and it was down to me, Susie, Andrew and Miss Robin.

I almost joked that she must be glad that Nathan was no longer coming to her daycare, but didn't.

We got in the van and I just started cussing up a storm about Nathan.

Finally I said "I'm just glad he's never going to be there again."

Susie asked what I was talking about.

I repeated myself and reminded her that she had told me about the brother and sister team that was no longer coming to daycare.

That was Heather and Jeff. Nathan and Kate are still proud card-carrying members of Miss Robin's Daycare.

Which means my son is back to being subjected to this fat assed little horror child for another 35 hours a week.

At least now I know why my kid comes homes with bumps and scrapes on his head.

I'm not sure if this is normal and to be expected in the raising of a child.

But I just know I don't like it.


Today's his official birthday.

One year ago today, my best buddy entered the world.

It's been a great year.

Here's to many more.

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