Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Saturday, June 16, 2007 Stick it in a Blog
The whole point of blogs is that you get to go on and on endlessly and with little purpose about tiny little things that happen in your life that nobody else could possibly even begin to care about. I think M. Small gets that, except that instead of a blog, he uses one of our next door neighbors.
Our neighbors are a quite active couple in their forties who moved into the neighborhood a couple of years ago, when M. Small was still a baby. For a while, the husband, G., would try to get M. Small to say hi to him, but M. Small was shy around him for some reason. But G. persisted, and now M. Small not only considers him a neighbor and a friend, but a confidante. Unfortunately, a two and a half year old does not have a great deal to confide. This does not stop him.
Subjects upon which M. Small has expounded to G. include his toys (both out in the yard and up in his room), what he had for lunch, the dream he had last night (or indeed any night), where he went that day, what he had for breakfast, where he went at any other point in his life, where he hopes to go one day, and free-form verbal essays on such targets as hot air balloons, garden hoses, the stuff in our garage, which window of our house is his, what he's wearing, and anything else that may be visible from where he's standing.
It's not like this with anyone else. He doesn't tell me and Trash every little thing, because we're either there with him and we already know, or he was in day care all day, in which case the answer to the question "What did you do today?" is always, "Played with my friends." One day a few weeks ago, M. Small brought the day care lady's attention to a potentially dangerous situation with the baby of the class. She told us about it, and how impressed she was with M. Small's heroic action, but when we asked him what he'd done that day, all he said was, "Played with my friends." But he spots G. and suddenly his whole life comes spilling out.
At least M. Small doesn't treat this as a one-way relationship. He's interested in G. too. "What are you doing?" he'll ask. And because M. Small certainly never sees me doing anything like washing my motorcycle (don't have one), glazing my windows (don't know how) or washing my car (too lazy), it's always new to him. And then he'll say, "Why?" G. will patiently and pleasantly explain. M. Small will pretend to absorb this for a while, and then it's his turn to talk again, about the grass or the driveway or where one of the other neighbor's cats is or what he got my dad for Father's Day.
And I think he's fairly conscious of this dynamic. This week, after going a few days without being able to provide one of his regular updates, he finally asks, "Where's G.? I need to tell him some things." I don't know whether he had those specific things already in mind or if he was just going to wing it.
Anyway, G. continues to be amused by it all, which is good. I don't want some kind of dysfunctional Dennis Mitchell/Mister Wilson relationship developing there in a few years. Before that happens, maybe I should just give him my Blogger password and cut him loose. posted by M. Giant 9:00 PM 8 comments
No, M.Small needs his OWN blog, like Norm at normtasia.blogspot.com Norm is a five-year-old who gives advice. He's a hoot!
God, I love your kid. He's such a charmer, I'm sure that G. doesn't mind having his ear bent. I've been there for it a few times, and I'm pretty sure he feels as lucky to be blessed with M. Small's friendship as everybody else.
That has got to be one of the most adorable things I've ever heard. And M Small has done many adorable things.
Happy Father's Day, M. Giant!
"Where's G.? I need to tell him some things."
LMAO! I miss you guys!
Too late, Michelle! My daughter (18 months) is going to marry M. Small - they just don't know it yet.
M. Small: peewee Internet mack daddy.