Once upon a time, which is prettymuch right now, there is a little boy. His name is Katcha. Not that is mother ever calls him that, but his mom isn’t a Doper. Not that that makes her a bad person. Many very nice people do not happen to be Dopers. I wouldn’t call The Little Woman a bad person if I were you. She may only be 6" tall, but she could just kick your ass. She’s small, but she’d fiesty.
Not that this is about The Little Woman. It’s about Katcha. Katcha is the second son, so if I were a King and I died, he wouldn’t get squat. Soupo would clean up, but Katcha would be out in the cold. Good thing I’m not a King.
Katcha is all of 15 months old. He weighs in at 35 lbs. “Man,” you say. “That is one big kid. What is he a butterball?” No. He’s just big. He’s proportional, but he’s off the growth chart. We go to the pediatrician next week, so we’ll know just how big he is then. But he’s big. One big kid.
You’d think as big as he is, he’d eat pretty good. He doesn’t. He eats chicken nuggets, fish sticks and goetta. You probably don’t know what goetta is. You could either do a websearch and find out, or I could tell you it’s a local sausage made with pin oats. If you don’t know what pin oats are, you’ll have to do a websearch. Or look it up in a dictionary. That’s what people did before they could do websearches. Look it up in a dictionary, or ask someone. Do what you want.
Sometimes he’ll eat some fruit. Occasionally a vegetable. Not very often, but he doesn’t have scurvy or rickets and he does weight 35 pounds. So he must be eating enough. I change his diapers, and I figure, from that evidence, he eats enough.
He’s a real strong kid. He’ll climb up on the chairs around the dinner table. Then he’ll climb up on to the dinner table. He’ll climb on anything. He’s a real climber. He’d probably climb a giant beanstalk and get the magic harp from the giant. But we live in the “Real World” so he probably won’t get the chance.
Katcha does some funny things. When he sees a dog, he’ll bark at it. Sometimes he’ll crawl around the floor and bark. He pretends he’s a dog. He’ll carry a ball in his mouth when he crawls and bark out of the side of his mouth. He’s funny.
When he gets his shoes and socks taken off he likes it. He says “Ahhhh…” like it’s the best thing ever. Getting his shoes and socks off makes Katcha happy.
When he takes a big drink he says “Ahhhh…” He says it like it’s the best thing ever. No matter what he drinks. He says “Ahhhh…” if it’s milk or juice or just water.
Katcha has ten teeth. The four in front on the top, the four in front on the bottom, and two mollars just came in. He’s got more coming, but that’s all he has now. When he gets more mollars, he can eat Tootsie Rolls. He can’t now because they are choking hazards.
He just woke up and he’s talking to the Pooh Bear in his crib. He likes his Pooh Bear, but he doesn’t take Pooh out of his crib. Pooh just stays in there to keep his blankets safe. I guess. I don’t know what Katcha thinks about it. He doesn’t talk yet. He barks, but he doesn’t talk. I have to go get him up and get him some breakfast. I’ll see if he’ll eat a waffle today. He usually will, but you never can tell.
I don’t have any nieces or nephews. My sibling do, but they are all rat-bastards and won’t return the favor. They have it better, because they get to play with the boys, then give them back. Like grandparents, but grandparents were parents first, so they paid their dues. Unless they are step-grandparents. Then maybe they didn’t have kids already. Not that it matters by that point, because the are old, and that would be dues enough.
Daddy Rue, parent.