Precocious Attraction
Jul. 9th, 2008 03:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
A few weeks ago, Malkhos took Andrew to the playground and, wheeling around in his wheelchair, he started following a five-year-old girl, repeatedly telling her, "I love you! I love you!" until the poor child finally responded by saying, "You're creeping me out." When Malkhos told me, I said, "That creeps me out. You should talk to him about the stalking laws in this state."
So Andrew decided he would take a more subtle approach. He expressed this to me as I was taking him out for ice cream one night.
"I like girls with yellow hair," he informed me.
"You mean blondes?" I said.
"No, yellow hair," he replied. "They're hot chicks."
"Jesus Christ, Andrew, who taught you that?"
He told me it was his uncle, and I made a mental note about working up a way to undo this at a later time.
As we were waiting to go through the drive-through to get his ice cream cone, he spotted a young, very pretty blonde--excuse me, yellow-haired--woman come out of the store. She was obviously on a date, but that didn't deter Andrew. He rolled his window down.
"Hi," he said to her.
The woman looked around until she spotted him in the car, then smiled--she was cute--and waved at him. "Hi!" she said back.
"I have a broken leg," he told her. Aha! I thought. The sympathy approach.
"You do?" she said. "You poor thing."
"I know," he said. "It will get better." Then he started babbling the whole second-broken-leg story, obviously confusing her, but she was polite about it.
"You're a cute little boy," she said.
"I'm a big boy," he informed her. "I have muscles."
She laughed, which only egged him on. He started to say more, but I finally interrupted. "Andrew," I said. "She's on a date. She can't go out with you tonight."
So he waved goodbye, clearly pleased with his progress. He hadn't creeped this one out.
At the park today, there was another family there in which the children included four daughters from about ages two through eight. Since Madeline alone can play on the playground equipment--Andrew has eleven days left in cast #2--he's been spending his time at the park striking up conversations with anyone in his proximity. Usually he tells whatever poor soul he's hooked his life story--he can do quite a bit with five years, particularly since memory only begins at about three--and embellishes along the way. Today, though, he set his sights on all four girls. He wheeled over for the kill.
He tried to engage them in conversation, but they ignored him. So then, he declared to Malkhos, "They would be interested in me if I had a motorcycle."
Or maybe he should just stick to older women.
So Andrew decided he would take a more subtle approach. He expressed this to me as I was taking him out for ice cream one night.
"I like girls with yellow hair," he informed me.
"You mean blondes?" I said.
"No, yellow hair," he replied. "They're hot chicks."
"Jesus Christ, Andrew, who taught you that?"
He told me it was his uncle, and I made a mental note about working up a way to undo this at a later time.
As we were waiting to go through the drive-through to get his ice cream cone, he spotted a young, very pretty blonde--excuse me, yellow-haired--woman come out of the store. She was obviously on a date, but that didn't deter Andrew. He rolled his window down.
"Hi," he said to her.
The woman looked around until she spotted him in the car, then smiled--she was cute--and waved at him. "Hi!" she said back.
"I have a broken leg," he told her. Aha! I thought. The sympathy approach.
"You do?" she said. "You poor thing."
"I know," he said. "It will get better." Then he started babbling the whole second-broken-leg story, obviously confusing her, but she was polite about it.
"You're a cute little boy," she said.
"I'm a big boy," he informed her. "I have muscles."
She laughed, which only egged him on. He started to say more, but I finally interrupted. "Andrew," I said. "She's on a date. She can't go out with you tonight."
So he waved goodbye, clearly pleased with his progress. He hadn't creeped this one out.
At the park today, there was another family there in which the children included four daughters from about ages two through eight. Since Madeline alone can play on the playground equipment--Andrew has eleven days left in cast #2--he's been spending his time at the park striking up conversations with anyone in his proximity. Usually he tells whatever poor soul he's hooked his life story--he can do quite a bit with five years, particularly since memory only begins at about three--and embellishes along the way. Today, though, he set his sights on all four girls. He wheeled over for the kill.
He tried to engage them in conversation, but they ignored him. So then, he declared to Malkhos, "They would be interested in me if I had a motorcycle."
Or maybe he should just stick to older women.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-09 09:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-10 09:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-09 10:49 pm (UTC):-)
no subject
Date: 2008-07-09 10:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-10 09:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-10 04:00 am (UTC)Glad to hear he's almost out of the 2nd cast.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-10 09:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-10 02:50 pm (UTC)On bluvus gals and how they are:
as a kid I had a similar attitude to that of Andrew; Casanova of The Wheelchair. The general idea, obviously, was being irresistible, only the female & blandus variety in my case. Luckily, later actual experience with boys told me, not to take it up again.
My first great love was a hippie. I came home, three years old, and declared mum my love for Jussi, the finn. "Oh fine, she said, and how old is he then?" "Nineteen!" Mum choked on something but did not despair: "and why him?" "He has such beautiful hair, this long and blonde!"
Mum looked nervous, as far as I can recall and probably said something or other about how Jussi should rather be cutting it, referring to Struwwelpeter. But I was devious and sneaky even back then: "but Jesus also has such long hair!" Mum was argued out of the run and had to accept my love for Jussi the hippie finn, aged 19.
But only after having asked about my contemporary three year old best friend Göran: "so, what have you two been playing today?" "Princess at the Castle!" "Oh, how nice. And Göran is the Prince, of course?" Blonde me, deeply offended: "No! He is the guard and my doorman!"
Mum had to cough convulsively into a towel in a cupboard.
Later my love for Jussi diminished, mainly through his moving out from home. I was then not a bit in love with, but in the best sense of the word, playing with; my good friend Johan. I seem to have taken a liking to yellow-haired guys those days. Johan decided to call me his princess too, as all girls fall for that. But the princess demanded proof of his true love for her, like any sensible five-year old gal should, so he gave me all his mothers gold and jewellery which I proudly put around my neck and arms and marched home declaring mum our soon-to-be wedding.
Mum had a good strong heart back then but still stuttered and almost fainted and, gruesome and insensitive as mothers are, forced me to give it all back to Johan and him to place it back where it had been.
This not only mortified both but really killed our young love, we never played together again, too bad was the hurt pride on both sides. The wedding was called off.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-10 09:34 pm (UTC)