Holden Caulfield as a Toddler
If you really want to know about it, you’ll want to hear about what I was like as a baby. But truthfully, that stuff bores me. Filled with a lot of eat, wake, sleep nonsense. To tell you the truth, my parents put so much time into that nonsense and it didn’t do a lick of good for anybody. Sleep, eat, wake, and I probably would have turned out just as rotten. Not that I’m all rotten, just rotten when I choose to be. It’s funny choosing to be rotten. But, sometimes I get a real kick out of it. Like when my parents go out of their way to Whole Foods to get me the brand of cheese crackers that I like. And I know that they did. But, when they put them on my tray, I refuse to eat them. I know it’s rotten. But the exasperated look my mom gets just kills me.
We were running late for my playdate with Samantha. Samantha can be all right sometimes. I mean she’s got this real fancy marble run. Not the cheapo kind where the marbles are always getting stuck, but the brand where all the pieces stay level. You’re not having to shove a random toy under one side just to balance the thing. That drives me nuts. You spend all your time counting the pieces on each side, so the thing should be sturdy. But, when you go to test it, the darn marble gets stuck after the first drop. Boys is that maddening. Samantha’s dad’s a big time judge, so he can afford the marble run where it’s impossible to build the thing crooked. Not that he knows anything about marble runs. The phony bought the set just because it was the most expensive one in the store. During playdates, the other families know he’s got money, because he’s got the fancy marble run. He doesn’t go out and say it’s the most expensive marble run. He just gets this stupid look when you’re playing with it. Like I’m lucky to be playing with such a fancy toy. I’d rather he just say it was the most expensive one in the store, so I wouldn’t have to see that stupid look.
But Samantha’s all right. Other than the marble run, she’s got some pretty interesting stories. With her dad being a big time judge, she has lot of playdates. Me, not so many, so I’ll ask her a lot of questions about the other kids. She’ll start off talking about Jenny or Peter or whomever, but she gets tired of sharing quickly. I hate that. When toddlers get to play with so many different kids, but they’re too snobby to talk about it. I admit, I can be a pest, because I ask a lot of questions. I’m interested. I mean she sure gets cranky when you ask too many questions. That’s when I start to really rile her up. Acting like a baby really sets her off. But it gives me a real kick. I’ll grab the marbles as they’re coming down the ramp and throw them right in my mouth. Honest to God, I’ll pretend like I’m going to swallow them. Samantha will wail thinking I’m really going to do it. If I catch myself in the mirror, I really get a laugh. I might start slobbering or making a gulping sound. That’s when she starts to cry. I know I shouldn’t do it, because Samantha’s not so bad, but it’s so darn amusing.
Mom will run in and scoop me up, apologizing to Samantha’s mom. Then, I get real depressed. I know mom’s trying to be friends with Samantha’s mom, but I keep ruining it. Boy, that really gets me down. Thinking about mom trying to be friends with Samantha’s mom. Mom tries real hard too. Giving me a bath right before we come over and putting me in my best outfits. That bugs the heck out of me. What difference does my outfit make. I’m just going to mess it up. For some reason she thinks Samantha’s mom cares. She doesn’t care about the outfit. Samantha’s mom only cares that mom is jumping through all these hoops just to impress her. So, then I’m feeling guilty because my mom is trying really hard to impress that phony. But I get such a kick out of making old Samantha wail.
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