Here is the lowdown on Smiley. He is two and a half years old. He is adorable, happy (hence the name Smiley), and spends most of his time misbehaving and managing to get away with it. As we all know, I never had a daughter. I think Hot Papa’s sperm are too manly. Since he never impregnated me with a little Mini-Bitch (and he never will. I really am done…as in can‘t have anymore…and you all thought I was the pregnant one hahaha!), I have had no choice then to make Smiley the next best thing…my shopping partner who enjoys my singing and all things involving Lady Gaga. There was no chance of this with E-man, as he is a boys boy…he likes Nascar, remote control trucks, and Puddle of Mudd; not to mention the fact that if you heard E-man talking and did not see him, you would think you were hearing a man, not the voice of a little person who has not even lost a tooth yet. Smiley though…I’m not saying that he is going to be gay because my family gets upset when I say that…they think that if I say that all the time, Smiley will feel like he hasssss to be gay. And since we can now add my own mother to the list of parents (hey there, Nomad) that read this, I won’t say that he is going to be gay. I will say that he loves my shoes.
I will also say that he will often get a purse (or gift bag or shopping bag) out of my closet and put his ‘things’ in it and carry it around the house. He has been known to strip down to his gutchies and wrap my hot pink star patterned scarf around himself like a dress. Did I mention that he loves Lady Gaga? Oh yeah. Just sayin. I don’t encourage this behavior (though some may disagree…I only put leopard printed dress on him ONE TIME, is that such a crime?), but I don’t discourage it either. In reality, I honestly think he is just emulating what I do because he is with me 24/7. We seem to share a lot in common.
One thing that we do not share is Smiley’s love for grape flavored things. I HATE fake grape flavors. Grape popsicles, grape lip gloss, grape bubblegum is just no. Yuck. Smiley, however, loves him some fake grape. The irony in this is that any time he ingests artificial grape, he gets a rash on his face. I think that my hate for artificial grape somehow manifested in Smiley as a slight food allergy. I try to keep it away from him by never purchasing anything artificial grape. He is a resourceful little bugger though, so he manages to get it at other people’s houses. He has a way of looking so sweet and innocent that people tend to give him whatever he wants without asking me first.
Anyway, a couple months ago, Birdie came over to my house with a bottle of grape vodka. She is always coming to my house bearing bottles of alcohol which is one of the many reasons why I love her. I guess she often seems to think she is buying fruity rum, and then realizes she has purchased some type of fruity vodka. How could someone confuse the two, you may ask? Birdie has three jobs. Three! She’s got a lot on her mind. So no Judgy McJudgerstein for her alcoholic beverage confusion…especially since she brings all the drinks she does not like to yours truly because she knows it will get drank. Or is it drunk? Drank or drunk, regardless, they both sound good to me. Birdie was not aware of my grape aversion, but I, being the good friend that I am, offered to keep it anyway knowing that eventually someone that I know would want to drink it. I never in a million years thought that person would be my two year old offspring.
One morning a couple weeks ago, I was doing my regular morning routine of running up and down the steps two hundred times, yelling at the dog, drinking ten cups of coffee, swearing under my breath, cursing myself for the lack of matching socks in my house, and pulling out my hair. After a few cups of coffee, I had to pee. Smiley was out of my sight for less then 2 minutes. Mid-stream, I hear him coughing. WTF? I run down the steps and he was standing in the kitchen, eyes watering, coughing and sputtering…and laughing. I looked at him and said, ‘What’s wrong? What did you do?” I scooped him up…and I knew. I smelled it. The sickeningly sweet smell of artificial grape on his breath. I looked towards my bar. That sneaky little child had pulled a chair over to it, located the grape vodka, and took a swig.
Yes, he was totally fine. It was just one sip, for god sake. I freaked for a second and called my retired nurse grandmother, but she quickly eased my mind. My bigger question was how the hell did he do it? There was no way a two year old could know that it would be grape flavored. Of alllllllll the bottles on my bar, that is the one he picks?! We have many a manly whiskey, scotch, tequila, and rum. If it would have been E-man, I guarantee he would have gone after the one with the bird on it. But not my little Smiley.
Call it coincidence if you want…I am going to go ahead and call it a sign of things to come…lets just go with ‘metro’ man who loves Lady Gaga, carries a ’satchel’ and drinks fruity vodka. Hopefully his Aunt Toots (aka Wormy) will turn him away from the grape and on to the mandarin.