Smoochies

I've just returned from Jack's birthday party. My nephew is THREE. He greeted everyone but me. When his mother grabbed him and whispered into his ear: "What do you say to Auntie M?", he carefully thought about his answer, looked right me and said matter of factly: "Thank you."


Um......No.


More whispering in his ear; more careful thinking on Jack's part; and more looking right at me while absolutely not saying a word to me. His mother, in the motherly voice I know so well (cuz I might have perfected the whole prompt your child through gritted teeth with a smile plastered on your face look!) says: "Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack........."


"Welcomed to my pardy!", he shouts and then squirms from his mother's grip, running off to join his kids. I knew right then and there it was gonna be a long "pardy" and cursed myself for not bringing my stash of Tic Tacs!


I received a smidgen of attention from Jack when I took interest in his cupcakes. Each cupcake was topped with green frosting and green coconut shavings to look like grass; peanut M&M's and a tiny dinosaur (Yes. My sister made them from scratch; Yes. She is that creative; And, YES. It really is that annoying!).


"Doze are my cupcakes....", Jack decrees.


"I love them, Jack! What are these right here?", I ask while pointing to the M&M's.

"Doze are the dina-sores egths! Doze are mine too.", Jack replies as he points to each and every M&M on each and every cupcake.


Did I mention Jack is three.....?


His birthday party was held in a pizza parlor located in The Sham. There was a good mix of Little People and adults, and the kids could play in the small arcade that was clearly visible from where we were all sitting. Each and every child spent the majority of the party begging for quarters like street urchins from every adult in attendance, regardless of whether the urchin belonged to that adult or not! Jack was positively smitten with the machine that had the big scoop. See, you spun it around and then it dropped into a pile of cheap ass toys, er.....I mean, really cool, age appropriate toys. The scoop would then pick up a big lot of toys and right before it deposited said toys into the germ infested receptacle, every freakin toy would fall out but ONE. This was completely lost on the three old, but don't think the 43 year old (Uncle Mark) didn't feel gypped every time! In a span of 20minutes, Jack had come to our table to show us his prizes which consisted of 5 super balls, 3 plastic parachute men, a key chain with a rubber flip-flop dangling from it, a tiny, plastic car (perfect for a toddler to choke on)and the prize of all prizes: a green and red striped lollipop!

Running as fast as his little legs could carry him, he zipped to the table holding up the lollipop- as if carrying the Olympic torch- and yelled to all of us: "Hey Guys! Look at my suckeR!" Many oohs and aahs were exchanged as Jack went down the table showing us all his sucker. When he reached his mother, instead of oohs and aahs, he was greeted with: "Wow, that is so neat....but we're not going to eat that right now........or you're gonna be on a sugar high for days!", that last quip said under her breath.

"But I want dat suckeR!", Jack says.

"No, we're going to save it, " his mom replies.

"BUT I WANT DAT SUCKER!", Jack yells.

"I know you do, but we're going to save it.......because we'll be having cupcakes soon".
As you can imagine, this sound reasoning is completely lost on Jack and he bursts into tears, all the while wailing that he wants DAT SUCKER!

Now, when it comes to my Sister, she's always been lucky enough to experience TWO sides of my stellar personality. Not only does she know me as The Snarky Brunette, but she's spent her entire life listening to the many pearls of wisdom I like to spout forth, all in the name of Older, Condescending Sister . And believe me when I tell you- there have been some gems. Keep this in mind, and then couple it with the fact that my nephew is, at this very moment, whipping himself into a frenzy over a sucker while my Sister is trying to a limit her three year old's sugar intake. Older, Condescending Sister gets BIG POINTS for keeping the following to herself:

"Give the kid the goddamn sucker! It's his birthday, for Christ sake!"

But as if on cue, Uncle Mark leans over and whispers into my ear: "If she wants happy birthday pictures, she better give him the sucker." And I smile knowingly (read: smugly) and reply in a whisper back to him: "That's what I'm not sayin'!"

I'm going to assume this thought has now occurred to Gina because at that very moment, when all "Good Mom Reasoning" had clearly failed, she sees Jack for what he's spiraled into: a deflated birthday boy with streaks of tears now visible on his red face; his mouth turned down into a dejected frown, mumbling over and over: IwantdatsuckeR.......butIwantdatsuckeR......IwantdatsuckeR........"

With a defeated sigh my sister caves: "Alright. Here's the sucker.......but should we open some presents?" And Jack says, without missing a beat and stuffing the sucker into his now smiling mouth: "Oh yeah we should!"

Everyone gathers around Jack, who is standing on a chair at the head of the table, holding his sucker in his right hand and licking it. One lick at a time. Now the presents in the gift bags are fairly easy for him to open and keep a firm grip on the sucker, but when Gina hands him the wrapped presents, his whole face reads quandary:
If I wanna open dis present, ine gonna haf to put down dis suckeR cuz I need bof hans to open dis present.

A few seconds tick by......his massive head cocked to the side, he takes one final lick of his sucker, turns to his mom and asks: "You hole dis for me?" Gina gingerly takes the sucker from Jack's hand and as he begins to rip open the present, she waggles the sucker at me as if saying: Here! Take this and hide it! Stealth like, I casually lean over and the contraband is secured and swiftly deposited on a plate well out of Jack's sight. He gets through the first wrapped present and as Gina hands him another, he asks: "Where'd dat suckeR go?" Gina ignores him and re-focuses him on the present at hand. Jack is engaged for about 5minutes, playing with his new dump truck, when out of the side of his mouth he muses: "Wonderin' 'bout dat suckeR...."

This continues throughout the entire present opening process- Jack musing about his sucker and where it got off to; all the while Auntie M is dissolving into a fit of giggles over the fact that her nephew likes his 50 cent (and most likely stale) sucker more than the bevy of birthday loot splayed out before him! When all the presents were opened, Gina exclaimed to Jack that his presents were "so cool" and asked him what he'd like to say to everyone. The little man turned to us all and yelled: "Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese!.........where's my suckeR? "

I'll spare you the details of the three old eating his dinosaur cupcake; the mountains of green frosting ending up all over his face and shirt and hands. I'll spare you the details of my nephew's sugar HIGH, so great that the little man ran circles around the tables, his plastic parachute man waving behind him as he screamed "Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" I'll spare you the details of Jack deciding he was finally ready for some real food; sitting at the table, picking the pineapple off his pizza one by one and mumbling: "peetha, peetha, peetha......... peetha!" over and over and in between bites!

As we were all leaving, I made my way over to my favorite midget and, upon seeing me coming his way, he screamed with delight. And then turned and ran the other way! I caught up to him in three steps, scooped him up and flipped him around so he was now facing me. Holding him above my head, his little face just inches from mine, he squealed with delight and cupped my face with his tiny hands. I could feel my heart swell with love as I said: "Auntie M loves you......now give me some smoochies before I go." I positioned Jack so that he was straddling my hips; still face to face with his hands now around my neck, he leaned in and said: "What aRe deese smoocheeeez?"

I giggled and said, "You know smoochies!"

"Ine don't know deese smoocheeeez....", his face scrunched in disbelief. I tell him to pucker up his lips, and show him what I mean by doing it myself. Jack puckers his mouth, giggling because he knows what's coming. But when I lean forward with my puckered lips, I give him a big, fat RASPBERRY! He yells: "Dose smoocheeeezies aRe gross!", then squeals with delight and begins to squirm as I then plant smoochies all over his face.

As I set him down and we begin to walk towards the others to leave, he turns to me and says: "Whoze got da peetha? "