The past week or so has really reinforced how badly I do
not want to have children any time in the near future. Don't get me wrong, I'd really like to have my own spawn running amok someday, but the thought of that happening within the next five years makes me shudder. I have 6 and 3 year-old nephews to thank for these thoughts. And now allow me to describe some typical happenings at my Brother's house.
Yesterday I was awoken by Gabriel a little before seven when he come up to my bed and started whispering "Jonathan....Jonathan...." I rolled away and tried to ignore the interruption to my blissful slumbers, but he was prepared for this occurrence. Gabriel climbed on top of the bed and lay across my torso so that he could whisper in my ear, "Jonathan....I love you....!" Yeah yeah, you guys all think that's cute...but let me tell you, cute doesn't exist at 7am. I grunted back my affections and rolled onto my belly, my young nephew continuing to lay on my back. He just sat there...and breathed these soggy, snot laden breaths into my ear, and then he had the courtesy to sneeze on my back. After he noticed that I wasn't going to do anything interesting, he slid off the bed. "Sweet mercy" I thought to myself, but my relief was short lived. Gabriel simply wanted something to do while he was chilling on top of uncle Jonathan, so he had gone to get a toy to play with. He came back with an aluminum cylinder with plastic ends, the container for a game. After resuming his position on my back, he took up banging this think with his hands or my back. While he is doing this, the dog, Ginger, has been released from her dungeon, and she comes bolting to my bedside, where she starts pawing at the mattress next to my head. Gabriel thinks that's cool, so he starts pounding on it as well. Finally Penny swoops down to my rescue and whisks away those who had evil designs on my sleep patters. The damage was done, though, and I got up shortly thereafter.
The day before, right after breakfast time, I was left alone with Gabriel while Matt ran Daniel to school. I haven't felt so helpless in a long time. I was trying to convince him to get ready for school..."Gabriel," I'd say, "Can you help me bring the dishes to the sink?" To which he's reply, "No, I need to draw now." Punk kid.
The G-Monster himself.During the day, it's down to Ginger and I....Ginger, the 3 month-old boxer puppy of doom and love. Her daily goal is to see how many times she can get me to clean up the after effects of her bodily functions. Last night I was washing dishes, when Ginger walked into the kitchen and sat down next to me. She stared up to me with these soulful puppy eyes, and I knew that she had done something wrong. Ginger doesn't do the cute, I wanna be by you thing...it's more like cute, wanna be all over you thing. So I immediately grew suspicious and asked, "Ginger, did you poop someplace?" (yes, I talk to the dog...) We walked on the porch, and there it was, the smelly result of Ginger's evacuated bowels. She remained contrite and forlorn as I lectured her about appropriate potty behavior, but lost interest as soon the cat walked by.
I think that's enough for right now...you guys get the idea. Well, the idea maybe that I'm short-tempered and impatient, but that's not exactly true ;) I love my nephews more than anything, but I'm glad that I don't that responsibility everyday of my life right now.
All right, I'm off to enjoy some beautiful Santa Barbara weather before the day is done.
Ginger, the canine wonder beast.
One of the last pictures of Gabriel before he battle damaged his chin.
