To the naked eye, he looks like a toddler. He is short and fat and he walks like he just had 3 double Dewars on the rocks. He flashes a heartbreaker of a smile, sucks his thumb and waves at you. You are now under the spell of the Ted.
What you fail to see at first glance is the black heart that pumps his blood,and the ruthless fashion in which he chooses to torment every living creature in his general area. It may be a common theme in houses across the world, dealing with a rambunctious 17 month old, but WE contend that “Ted the Shed” would eat other rambunctious 17 month olds. He, in short, is a crazy person.
For a while I didn’t see it. I think our little Sultan of Shenanigans saved all the GOOD stuff for me. I’d walk in the door to a “DA DA” plus hug and two short hours later, I was putting him down for bed. Mary would tell me everything he would do and I’d say, “TEDDY? He’s just a baby!”
Had a Louisville Slugger made sweet contact with my skull at that very moment, it would have been well deserved. Luckily, my lovely wife exhibited amazing restraint.
It’s all come to the light as of late, however. For, NOW, Tedderton McAwfulpants has let his true colors be shown to anyone and everyone in shouting distance.
It starts at breakfast. ”Here’s some cereal, my man.” He looks at you and feigns excitement like he’s actually going to eat it. You turn around to make the coffee and realize he’s sent the cereal and bowl down for a fiery death onto the tile floor. For some reason, you continue to put food type items in front of him. Probably because you are scared for phase two, which is unleashing him from his harness and onto the world around him.
After 10 minutes of Waffle Frisbees and the Golden Graham Gatling Gun, you take him down. For the rest of the day, he climbs, he grabs, he screams, he takes, he hits, he scratches, he bites, he naps…..he climbs, he grabs, he screams..You get it.
No one is safe. No one’s STUFF is safe. Favorite toy? It’s His Now. Favorite lipstick, girls? It’s now decorating the bathroom door….and your sheets.
For some reason, we love our little cheerful chimpanzee. Because, we know, at some point, my man is going to make the transition from Primate to happy little boy. Until that day comes, pray for us. Pray hard for us. Especially Mary. She has to be in the house with this animal all day and I fear for her life.
Life Don’t Rhyme,
Greg “Manchild” Owens
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