Bouncy Houses, Dinosaurs and Spongebob: Just Another Saturday

The sun is roasting the top of my head--I'm next to one of two inflatable bouncy houses, talking to a four-year-old named Thomas about dinosaurs:

"T-rex is my favorite." Thomas announces proudly, as if I couldn't tell by his magnificent performance at the bottom the the bouncy-slide. He waits until another kid slides down the slide, then growls and snarls at them, with his elbows held tight at his sides (the T-Rex has very tiny arms). His mouth has a bright red stain around it from the strawberry ring pop he was enjoying during his downtime between attacks.

"What do you think about velociraptors?" I question, bending my index finger into a makeshift claw to show I know my stuff.

"They're mean." Thomas tells me, as he crouches behind the inflatable wall--waiting for his next victim.

"Yeah they are," I agree. "Have you seen Jurassic Park?"

"Yep!" He pops up from behind the wall to answer. "Watch this!" He shouts, and  flops off the wall with an awkward little kick and falls on the ground, saggy dirty socks flailing mid-fall.

"See?" Thomas asks me, panting slightly, and obviously waiting for me to praise his acrobatics.

"Heck yeah I did, sick moves, Thomas." This satisfies him, and he runs off to play with his sister.

I look back towards the slide for the reason I was over there in the first place, he's sitting at the top waiting for just the right time to slide down. His name is Otis, and he's my best friend.

Otis is wearing mismatched socks, one blue buzz Lightyear and one red. I can see his sweaty little blond curly head behind a little girl with equally sweaty pigtails. She's bopping around in front of him like a wallaby with a crack habit. Otis doesn't enjoy concentrated excitement, and the slide is too crowded as far as he's concerned. I wait until it clears a little, and tell him to slide down. He crawls to the edge and decides to slide down on his stomach, feet first. He's looking down over his shoulder the entire time he slides, wearing an expression of complete and utter terror. His big blue eyes are bulging out of their sockets, and his tiny pink mouth is tight and motionless. Once Otis reaches the bottom, (Thomas was no longer there to scare him) he smiles and giggles and climbs back up the stairs to slide back down again.

Finally, the pizza arrives, Otis and I take a seat at the table with my new friend Thomas and his brother and sister. The conversation is getting pretty intense, the subject moves from dinosaurs, to sharks, and finally, to Spongebob. We all take turns talking about our favorite episodes, Thomas likes the one when Spongebob teaches Squidward to blow bubbles, we all agree this is a great choice. I share that my favorite is the one when Spongebob and Patrick try to raise a baby clam together, a classic.

"Are you Thomas' new friend?" Thomas' sister asks.

"Yep, and this is my best friend, Otis." I say matter-of-factly.

"No I'm not." Otis corrects, and my grin falls, not because I'm hurt, or believe him at all, but now my new friend Thomas thinks I'm a liar, and he probably wont show me any more of his acrobatic tricks.

Side-note: Otis really is my best friend, he just forgets sometimes. I think he thinks it's funny when I get that look on my face, the kind right before you cry.

A really chubby little girl wearing what looks like pink pajamas plows past some toddlers to get to the woman sitting across from me,

"Gracie pulled my shiiiiirt!" she wines, dragging her icing-covered palm over her damp forehead, which makes me feel sick.

The woman calls her daughter over and scolds her, while the chubby girl stands and watches. She seems to be enjoying it, and I think of Margaret from Dennis the Menace.

The soiree is winding down, and a little boy named Ander in a Mario Bros. t-shirt is discussing Sonic the Hedgehog with one of the birthday boys. I have little to add to this conversation, as I was always terrible at video games. The "Y" button was always a mystery to me. Does anyone really know what it does? Anything that requires any sort of hand-eye coordination proves to be virtually impossible as far as I'm concerned. If I'm being honest, coordination in general alludes me. Do a cartwheel? You might as well ask me to do brain surgery.

 

I tried a cartwheel once, and ended up with a bloody-nose. How I managed to knee myself in the face during the attempt is one of the world's greatest unsolved mysteries. The sheer mechanics of it are mind-boggling...Anyway, so that was my Saturday. 

I hang out with kids all the time, it's my job, which is perfect: Poop jokes are my jam, farting is honestly the funniest thing ever, and I love me some grilled cheese and chocolate milk. Sesame Street? Try Sesame SWEET. Kipper rules, Caillou blows, the Wiggles can die a slow and painful.

G out.