I Like My Babies Shaken, Not Stirred...
My sister went to the dentist this afternoon and left her little hellspawn for me to watch. I had no idea what I was supposed to do with a five month old. Seriously, what can you do with a baby? I couldn't understand her, and I'm pretty sure she couldn't understand me. It was like being trapped in an elevator with a stranger - I wasn't sure if I should say something to break that awkward silence or if I should just avoid eye contact and pretend to be somewhere else. Anyway. We wound up sticking our tongues out at each other for a good five minutes before I panicked and called my sister to beg for help. Her advice: read a book or listen to music.
I don't have any children's books. The closest thing I could find was Edward Gorey's Amphigorey. So Gus (her name is really Kailey Annaquinnah Abbott-Bishop, but I refuse to say it out loud, so I just call her Gus) and I read The Gashleycrumb Tinies. That's the one that goes: "A is for Amy, who fell down the stairs; B is for Basil, assaulted by bears..." And so on and so forth. And there are lovely ink drawings to go along with the story. Gus seemed to like the story, especially the part where Fanny gets sucked dry by a leech, so that was good. It only took five minutes to read it to her, though, which was less good. We still had a couple of hours to kill, so I figured we should try the music suggestion. I hate listening to the radio, and the only station Gus seemed willing to listen to was a Country Music one, so we had a difference of opinion there. I decided we should settle it by arm wrestling. She almost beat me with a totally unfair move that I like to call "suck on your opponent's knuckles," but I pulled through. Shaken but victorious.
Eventually Gus and I decided to read a magazine. I let her pick one, which was stupid, because we wound up spending thirty minutes flipping through Victoria's Secret. After spending the past two days with Amy, I was all bra-ed out, but I figured that to Gus the magazine was like reading a menu. I hope that was it, anyway. She was very focused on the models, so either she was hungry or she's the world's smallest baby dyke. I'm not judging. I'm just saying.
Anyway. I finally got bored enough to make up a story about evil clowns and demonic closet monsters. It kept her occupied for a good long while, and she was helpful enough to supply sound effects. Well, just one sound effect really - the "blowing raspberries" one. (What in hell does that mean, anyway? Blowing raspberries? I'm fucking stumped...) Since she seemed to enjoy the Gashleycrumbs and monsters, I decided to play the soundtrack from Jekyll & Hyde: The Gothic Musical Thriller. Gus was thrilled, and she shrieked with laughter when Hyde finally made his appearance. Gus and I were grooving to "Confrontation" (that's the one where Jekyll and Hyde get into a massive battle of wills - it's wicked funny, even though it's supposed to be dramatic) when my sister came home. She walked into the room right as this part came on:
JEKYLL
Soon you will die
And my mem'ry will hide you!
You cannot choose but to lose control!
HYDE
You can't control me!
I live deep inside you!
Each day you'll feel me devour your soul!
JEKYLL
I don't need you to survive
Like you need me!
I'll become whole as you dance with death!
And I'll rejoice as you breathe your final breath!
HYDE
For I'll live beside you forever!
JEKYLL
No!
HYDE
With Satan himself by my side!
JEKYLL
No!
HYDE
And I know that now and forever
They'll never be able to separate
Jekyll from Hyde!
Anyway. My sister wasn't pleased. I don't know if her issue was with the "devour you soul," "dance with death," or Satan being by his side, but she pitched a little tight-ass sphincter-snit. And then she turned the music off. Gus screamed. I turned the music back on. Gus laughed. And it went on like that for at least a minute. Off, scream, on, laugh, off, scream, on, laugh. Finally my sister snatched Gus back and mumbled something about perversion. I took the opportunity to kick the Amphigorey under the couch. What she doesn't know won't hurt me, after all.
My sister forgave me for warping her innocent little child's mind after I made cookies. It's nice to know she'll trade her morals for cookie dough. It used to take money. Anyway. I guess Gus might turn out okay after all. Maybe next time we hang out I'll let her watch Elvira's Haunted Hills with me. Comedy for me, breasts for her. It could work.
I don't have any children's books. The closest thing I could find was Edward Gorey's Amphigorey. So Gus (her name is really Kailey Annaquinnah Abbott-Bishop, but I refuse to say it out loud, so I just call her Gus) and I read The Gashleycrumb Tinies. That's the one that goes: "A is for Amy, who fell down the stairs; B is for Basil, assaulted by bears..." And so on and so forth. And there are lovely ink drawings to go along with the story. Gus seemed to like the story, especially the part where Fanny gets sucked dry by a leech, so that was good. It only took five minutes to read it to her, though, which was less good. We still had a couple of hours to kill, so I figured we should try the music suggestion. I hate listening to the radio, and the only station Gus seemed willing to listen to was a Country Music one, so we had a difference of opinion there. I decided we should settle it by arm wrestling. She almost beat me with a totally unfair move that I like to call "suck on your opponent's knuckles," but I pulled through. Shaken but victorious.
Eventually Gus and I decided to read a magazine. I let her pick one, which was stupid, because we wound up spending thirty minutes flipping through Victoria's Secret. After spending the past two days with Amy, I was all bra-ed out, but I figured that to Gus the magazine was like reading a menu. I hope that was it, anyway. She was very focused on the models, so either she was hungry or she's the world's smallest baby dyke. I'm not judging. I'm just saying.
Anyway. I finally got bored enough to make up a story about evil clowns and demonic closet monsters. It kept her occupied for a good long while, and she was helpful enough to supply sound effects. Well, just one sound effect really - the "blowing raspberries" one. (What in hell does that mean, anyway? Blowing raspberries? I'm fucking stumped...) Since she seemed to enjoy the Gashleycrumbs and monsters, I decided to play the soundtrack from Jekyll & Hyde: The Gothic Musical Thriller. Gus was thrilled, and she shrieked with laughter when Hyde finally made his appearance. Gus and I were grooving to "Confrontation" (that's the one where Jekyll and Hyde get into a massive battle of wills - it's wicked funny, even though it's supposed to be dramatic) when my sister came home. She walked into the room right as this part came on:
JEKYLL
Soon you will die
And my mem'ry will hide you!
You cannot choose but to lose control!
HYDE
You can't control me!
I live deep inside you!
Each day you'll feel me devour your soul!
JEKYLL
I don't need you to survive
Like you need me!
I'll become whole as you dance with death!
And I'll rejoice as you breathe your final breath!
HYDE
For I'll live beside you forever!
JEKYLL
No!
HYDE
With Satan himself by my side!
JEKYLL
No!
HYDE
And I know that now and forever
They'll never be able to separate
Jekyll from Hyde!
Anyway. My sister wasn't pleased. I don't know if her issue was with the "devour you soul," "dance with death," or Satan being by his side, but she pitched a little tight-ass sphincter-snit. And then she turned the music off. Gus screamed. I turned the music back on. Gus laughed. And it went on like that for at least a minute. Off, scream, on, laugh, off, scream, on, laugh. Finally my sister snatched Gus back and mumbled something about perversion. I took the opportunity to kick the Amphigorey under the couch. What she doesn't know won't hurt me, after all.
My sister forgave me for warping her innocent little child's mind after I made cookies. It's nice to know she'll trade her morals for cookie dough. It used to take money. Anyway. I guess Gus might turn out okay after all. Maybe next time we hang out I'll let her watch Elvira's Haunted Hills with me. Comedy for me, breasts for her. It could work.