Nashville Knucklehead

I hear live people

I can read minds. It is both a blessing and a curse, a skill that comes with a great responsibility. (Much like my ability to see through clothes and bend spoons with my thoughts.) This is what I channeled from the father of a five-year-old boy in a restaurant the other day.

"I see you staring at me. If only you knew how brilliant and important my son is, you might avert your judgemental gaze. He taught himself Latin in utero. Upon being swatted on the backside by the obstetrician, he calmly replied 'Et tu, Brutus?' At two weeks of age, he taught our Cairn Terrier, Cardinal Puff, how to type. At three months, he became a pen-pal of Jose Feliciano, often sending him lyrics in Spanish Braille. At nine months he replaced the master cylinder and brake pads on my '95 Tahoe. By the age of one, he had done every crossword ever published in both English and Dutch, so he took to solving differential equations. On his second birthday I gave him a guitar and he immediately played Jeff 'Skunk' Baxter's solo from Steely Dan's Bodhisattva, despite never having heard the song before. At three, he was elected Mayor of France. Two months later he scored a perfect 1600 when he took the SAT on a whim. At four, his involvement with Arabian Horses led to a Director's appointment to FEMA, where he now foils Al Qaeda plots by using his uncanny ability to 'smell' dirty bomb radiation in shipping containers. He has averted dozens of attacks and saved millions of lives. He commutes from his playhouse by piloting the supersonic hovercraft he built from a Dyson vacuum and spare MiG 29 parts he bought on Ebay. He just returned from Langley, where he was the keynote speaker at an anti-evil-doer symposium with W, Dick, Condie and Rummy. He has a patent pending on an automobile engine that runs on tap water and compliments. He built his own holographic iPod. He makes beautiful blankets on his antique loom, which he donates to retired greyhounds. He ages his own Worcestershire sauce. He shot 65 at Augusta twice in one day. He modified an old DVD remote to perform Lasik on our neighbor's ferret. He is a master calligrapher and an international kite-boarding champion. Tom Hanks is on his speed dial. He does his own dental work. He clones fish. He invented brown sugar.

So, as you can imagine, he sometimes gets overly tired. That is why I am letting him have this ear-piercing screaming fit on the floor of this restaurant. I don't really care if he is bothering you, I am going to just let it play itself out, because I don't want to damage such a special boy with any so-called 'discipline.'

So quit staring at me."

posted by Nashville Knucklehead @ 11:56 AM