Saturday, January 26, 2013

Babysitter of the Week

I still enjoy driving around with my nephew Kayden, even though now that he is five (and hyperactive), I find it more of a challenge to deal with him than I used to.  This week, I took him for a drive to go look for Skylanders (I remember Joe Quesada, the recent Editor In Chief of Marvel, saying that "Comic books are basically crack, but for kids."  But apparently, these Skylanders games/figures are that for the 21st Century), and we were playing a rhyming game where I'd say a word, and he'd have to come up with rhymes for it.

I'd been trying to get him to actually figure out rhymes for over a year, but he's just now figured it out.  I'd say, "Tree," and he'd say, "Tree.  Bee.  Fee.  Key."  And the like until he'd say nonsense words and we'd go on to the next word.

So, we were driving along.  I said, "House," and he said, "House.  Louse.  Mouse.  Kowse.  Towse."  I said, "Hat," and he said, "Hat.  Cat.  Bat.  Tat.  Fat."

Suddenly, the van in front of me simply stopped in the middle of the road, so it could turn right, instead of slowing, signalling, and turning right as human beings are supposed to drive.  I will admit that I was not paying attention, so it seemed much more sudden to me.  I slammed on the brakes, and because of the slush on the road, we skidded a foot or two, coming to a stop maybe four inches away from hitting into the van.

The van never even noticed this happened, and went on its merry way.

"Shit!" I muttered.

"Shit," Kayden said from the back.  "Bit.  Mitt.  Kit.  Fit."

Uncle Rish Outfield

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