I like kids because they are crazy
<center><b>Candice Boutilier</b></center>
There is a monster in the woods.
I think it’s a bear.
It growls and roars and chases little boys.
That’s what 5-year-old Braeden told me to write about Friday morning.
Did I mention it was 6:45 a.m? I guess that’s when kids wake up. What is this miniature human thinking?
I know exactly what he was thinking, “Time to play more Nintendo.”
And that’s how he’s spent about 60 percent of his time in Moses Lake.
Braeden is my co-worker’s nephew. He came to visit for the weekend.
I often forget how funny kids can be, because I’m not usually around them. They are wonderful entertainment because they believe everything you say and think you are hilarious.
Funny moment no. 1:
Introducing Braeden to the dogs.
That was funny to me and my co-worker, but not to him.
As he ran screaming and crying in circles in the backyard, my hound chased, barked and sniffed him. I really hope that he isn’t traumatized because I think that was the first time he met a dog.
Eventually, we rescued him from the “evil” hound and brought him inside. Later he called the male dog a female - using a particular word.
Funny moment number two:
Braeden can dance.
“Watch me, watch this, see what I can do?”
Those are typical phrases I heard.
He can do summersalts off the couch, slide on the slick floor, do round-house kicks, play electric guitar loud enough that the neighbors can hear the amplifier through the wall, and build sculptures out of soap.
Funny moment number three:
Braeden gets introduced to the dogs again.
It was take-two of Braeden screaming and running in circles. This time however, it was in the house.
Scary moment number one:
Now I remember why I don’t hang out with kids. It makes me want one because they are so much fun and impressionable. But then I see a baby and can’t bare the thought of changing a diaper or being spit-up on.
I can’t be trusted with babies anyway due to my own negligence. The last time I held a baby, my cousin Laura, I dropped her and she smacked her head on a wooden block. I was about 9 years old. I didn’t tell anyone I did that until I was older because I thought I gave her brain damage. She didn’t talk much when she was little. She’s healthy … now. I think she’s forgiven me.
Phew!
I have yet to drop Braeden on his head and look forward to more of his antics.
Candice Boutilier is the Columbia Basin Herald assistant editor. She appears to like dogs better than children.
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