Griddle McSpiddle Mr. Farty Pants : The Munchkin Houdini (1048 hits)
Category: HumorRating: 1.41 on 13 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by LisaCat (View user info) at 2003-12-30 14:11:59 EST
Let me start out by going on the record and saying that I cannot see myself having kids.
Ever.
This past weekend, as you all know, was the greatest weekend in every child's life. The Yuletide was Yuletiding it's way into the hearts of children while they exhibit their true greedy potential by laboriously slaving away with catalogues at hand, making their Christmas wish-lists.
Cmon, you all remember the days when you were asked to make a wish list and went straight for the toy sections of innumerous catalogues. It would be atrocious if any toy that came out last January were forgotten, let alone not appearing on your illustrious list of desires.
Never did my name appear on Nick's list.
Nick is my estranged seven-year-old cousin. I have never really been seen in good light by my extended family due to the overwhelming amounts of animosity held towards my mother, but occasionally my aunt drops Nick off with my mother or myself while she goes out to do something more entertaining. Think of me as a makeshift, grossly underpaid babysitter and you begin to understand our relationship. I think this clearly violates the child's rights as forcing the child to spend any amount of time with his lesbian, child hating cousin is most definitely cruel and unusual punishment.
Does he care? Of course not.
The last time he got to spend time with 'Cuz Liz,' as he so graciously named me; he got to destroy my bathroom. Apparently it was the most 'entertaining' room in the house. I ended up having to call a plumber to get a toy boat, stuffed animal, and plastic snake he flushed down the toilet unstuck and subsequently hire a painter to cover up the water damage done to the ceiling below the bathroom from spillage of aforementioned toilet. This visit, he's staying within sight, and anything not bolted to the floor, or containing water, will be kept out of reach of his nefarious fingers.
He was scheduled to arrive on my doorstep mid-afternoon on Saturday. Instead, his mother was tardy in her appearance. This led to my frantic double-checking of my prior nights childproofing.
Do you remember those plastic locking mechanisms that you put on cabinet doors to keep kids out? I bought ten of them in hopes of keeping him out of every cabinet in my house. If he wanted something to drink he would have to ask me for it - politely mind you, and I would have to 'unlock' the cabinet, retrieve a cup, place a sipper seal on it, tac-weld it on, and then provide him his refreshment. That may seem like a lot, but his last visit cost me just under the $500.00 mark which I can't hold his mother accountable for. (She wouldn't pay it even f I did, not to mention the embarrassment associated with being bested by a child)
I knew the little bundle of joy had arrived at the onset of the ringing of my doorbell about 15 times in quick succession.
Here we go again.
His mother left strict guidelines regarding his care including the all-time favorites "Get him in bed early" and "Don't let him watch too much TV." With a smile and a shuffle, she was gone and I turned around. It was at that moment that I realized I had already lost dear, precious Nick.
Shit.
I quickly closed the door and spun on my heels so quickly I almost fell over. What followed was an amazing homage to a classic Miami Vice car chase. For a few fleeting seconds I felt like Don Johnson chasing a drug lord hopped up on crack all over Miami, but instead of chasing a drug lord in an expensive sports car or speed boat, I was chasing a whirling dervish hopped up on something else. Whatever my aunt feeds this kid, I need to get me some of.
Our chase ended abruptly in my kitchen when Nick realized that every cabinet was locked. He stood in amazement and gazed up at all of the plastic devices barring his entry into everything he would want to get into. He must have viewed it as a challenge, for no sooner than I arrived did he start probing the devices. For a few brief seconds, I could only marvel at his behavior. This kid was casing my kitchen.
Hurriedly, I snatched him up off the ground and took him into my most childproofed room in the entire house - my living room. We were going to watch a movie his Aunt provided me with, and a movie I had not seen entitled "Little Nemo." Unbeknownst to me, this movie was Nick's favorite and must have triggered something in the chemistry of his brain because just as the movie ended, he began dancing around performing some homage to the underage god of insanity, sugar, and sparkly things.
After a brief moment of beauty, he looked up at me and demanded Kool-Aid. I offered him apple juice, but he simply responded with an even louder demand. The last thing I needed to provide this kid with was sugar, but if I didn't, who knows what atrocities he was capable of. A quick flashback to the last 'incident,' and I was off to prepare the tyrant some Kool-Aid. As I unlocked my kitchen, he watched on curiously as I prepared his drink. Sipper seal in place, I presented him with a low-sugar version of the drink that he started chugging (as much as one can through a sipper seal).
No sooner did I finish locking the kitchen did I turn around to find the sipper sealed cup bouncing once upon the floor, then bursting open, spilling its contents all over the tile. Nick's reaction was a classic "uh oh" followed by laughter.
Time began to dilate as I watched the colored liquid spread over the grouting in-between the kitchen tiles. I turned my angry glare towards the laughing devil in front of me and what followed was another Miami Vice-esque chase throughout the house.
Fuck the Kool-Aid, this kid was gonna get it.
The chase ended up in my bedroom where Nick attempted to hide amidst copious amounts of pillows and under my blanket, peeking out occasionally to make sure no one could see him. The ruse may have worked if it weren't for the occasional giggle he let out every time he peeked. I tried to play dumb to his little game of peek-a-boo, but after the fourth peek, I pounced. He let loose a scream and began his struggle for freedom. For the uninitiated to act of child wrangling, they have no shame and Hell hath no fury like a struggling child. His limbs flailed, his hands clawed my hair, and he kicked me in the boob with such force I couldn't help letting him go.
After several minutes spent nourishing my bruised ego and ailing breast, I began the hunt for Nick again. After systematically checking every room upstairs, to make sure he didn't double back, I took my search downstairs which cultivated with my arrival in the kitchen. What I saw amazed me. In the three or four minutes I spent upstairs, Nick managed unlock and open all of the ground-level cabinets and just began tossing out pots and pans into a puddle of red Kool-Aid in the middle of the kitchen floor.
I asked him what he was doing, to which he smiled and replied "Griddle McSpiddle Mr. Farty Pants."
I couldn't stop my subsequent laughter.
User Reviews
Submitted by PWNstar (user info) at 2003-12-30 20:29:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
yup, it was good
Submitted by PWNstar (user info) at 2003-12-30 20:18:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Here's a +2 for the title, now I'm actually going to read this and see if it is good
Submitted by fingerbang (user info) at 2003-12-30 16:09:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I didn't miss the point, the point is is that she's a lebian but she didn't specify what type
Submitted by Jenny <Kilbasa.at.kilbasa.com> at 2003-12-30 15:57:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I think that fingerbang and mnwhrt14 missed the point of that story.
A good read.
Submitted by mnwhrt14 (user info) at 2003-12-30 15:38:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
if you would let me i would prolly lick your butthole.
Submitted by fingerbang (user info) at 2003-12-30 15:30:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
also would you let me fingerbang you if i promised to do a good job
Submitted by fingerbang (user info) at 2003-12-30 15:27:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
so are you a dike or are you the hot lesbian every guy thinks about having a threesome with.
Submitted by EatMeCompletely (user info) at 2003-12-30 15:09:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Great story.
I hate badass little kids.
Submitted by Kristen (user info) at 2003-12-30 14:46:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I now consider you my kindred spirit, Lisacat.
Submitted by Quartermain (user info) at 2003-12-30 14:41:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No wonder his mother was in such a hurry to get rid of him. You should have tied the little brat to something in the basement and let him yell his little head off while you cleanup his mess.
Submitted by Heimdallsman (user info) at 2003-12-30 14:36:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Man, I love my own kids but I can't STAND other people's kids.
I feel for ya.
--HeimdallsMan
Submitted by SpikeGoddess (user info) at 2003-12-30 14:23:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Haha, sounds like fun to be babysat by the bitter lesbian cousin of the family!
SpikeGoddess
Submitted by Mr-Boo (user info) at 2003-12-30 14:21:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Good story. The next time he visits, make sure you feed him full of sugar before he leaves and let his mother deal with little brat....teehee.