Little engineers, part II

February 18, 2011

Guest post by Papa in response to Little engineers, yogurt catastrophes, ghosts and private investigators

That wasp nest was as big as Dallas.I ignored the wasp nest under the eve for a long time.  Then one day I looked up, and there it was as big as Dallas.  Those guys had been working their little sharp needle asses off.  Someone had to move, and considering the housing market these days, it needed to be them. Besides we have seniority at Masion Bean.

Papa doesn’t do chemicals, so mechanical extraction was the only way to go.

I explained the situation in detail to Jax.  This was a manly project, and we do manly projects together.

“Papa is going to knock down that mean old wasp nest.  Jax, remember, those wasps have big stingers on their tails.”

Nodding his head, he said gravely, “Yes, Papa.”

“If one of those guys stings you, it’s like having fifteen billion shots all at one time, so you have to stay in the house. Okay?”

“Okay, Papa, but what if one of them stings you?”

“Papa is fast as the wind, and he’s going to run back into the house. Your job is to open the door for Papa. Okay?”

“Okay, Papa. But what if one of them gets in the door and stings me, Papa?”

“Listen, kid, Papa’s got this project under control. You just stand back behind the door and watch the old man work.”

I’m telling you, folks, I took those wasps on man to man. . . with a ten-foot long stick.  Standing on the edge of the porch, I knocked those suckers off the house with the first swing. It was a homerun and the wasps were swarming.

They were everywhere.  Loud and pissed off.

I turned around and ran to the door, but the little engineer had locked the damn door.

Three-year-old kids are not supposed to know shit like how to operate a deadbolt lock!

That was a year ago. The sting is gone now.  It’s a damn good thing for his wild little blanket-toting ass that he’s cute..

{ 8 comments }

Irene February 18, 2011 at 8:49 am

LMAO!!! I can imagine your chagrin when you thought you had it made and the damn door was locked!

Also, the colorful and explicit verbiage that ensued.

My son did that to me once too! About Jax age. Was out at the bus stop with his older brother, came back, door was locked. He went downstairs to play with the train set! Little snot!

Yeah, they’re SO lucky their cute. How many times you wish you could just smack them upside the head for the stuff they do!

You should DEFINITELY get your own blog!

Call it “Papa’s Point of View”.

Pamela February 18, 2011 at 1:06 pm

I am so impressed with Jax’s skills and concern for safety. Also with his strict compliance with your request. As I re-read your post, I cannot help but notice the instruction “to open the door for Papa.” Nothing about “leave the door unlocked for Papa and then open it.” As I see it, Jax, a toddler left UNSUPERVISED in the house, did the sensible thing and locked the door to prevent entry by an uninvited guest. Three cheers for Jax! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

However, I am sure he got that blistering intelligence from his maternal grandfather.

🙂

The Mayor February 19, 2011 at 12:03 am

That certainly had to be a shock for you!
I’d say he was definitely using his head to do some self preservation against those wasps. Let’s face it , at that age you couldn’t expect the little guy to have your back.

Kristi February 20, 2011 at 11:05 pm

hahahaha!

Betsy at Zen Mama February 21, 2011 at 2:31 pm

Love your post, Papa! The younger the kid is the smarter he is. He was not about to get stung by a bee that would feel like a 15 billion shots! When they’re teenagers, they won’t be thinking so clearly!

S.I.F. February 22, 2011 at 2:27 am

Ha! I was babysitting a friends little boy not too long ago and he locked me out of the house too. Thank goodness there weren’t any wasps around though!!

Papa February 22, 2011 at 4:02 pm

Thanks for all the great comments.

You guys are right. A billion shots might have been more than needed to make the point.

I try to do the Grandpa job around here which is to spoil the kids and keep the cursing under my breath.

Papa

Posky February 22, 2011 at 4:13 pm

It seems pretty obvious that your child was trying to murder you. I would seek some form of counseling as soon as possible, if I were you.

Good story, though.

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