You might think my age (2 and a half years) would be a disadvantage when it comes to writing, but it isn’t. I can’t yet speak fluent English, but I can write with the best of the area’s literary rug rats. In fact, after my last column ran in the Times-Herald, a rival publication approached me and wanted me to pen a regular piece for them called “Kiddie Kommentary.” I consulted my trusted rep GD (short for Grand Dad you may recall) and later told them I wasn’t interested.
But I did tell GD I’d do a holiday retrospective for him. I like GD and would do most anything for him. He loves the English language, as I do, but at the same time he doesn’t always try to be cute and alliterative like those other bozos and their misplaced “K.” Did they honestly think I’d lend my name to something so callow?
Anyway, the holidays are over, the company gone, and the house is back to normal. I have mixed emotions. On the one hand it was great having relatives around for a couple of weeks besides mom and dad – new people to indulge and adore me. Not that mom and dad don’t indulge and adore me. They just don’t do it all the time like GD and the rest do. On the other hand, I’m sort of glad the relatives are gone. Face it, after a while, they get to be a bit of a bother. The worst thing is they’re always taking pictures – stills and videos both, yapping at me incessantly, telling me to look this way and that, say this and that, or do this and that. After a couple of days I started to feel like a celebrity on the run from kinfolk Paparazzi. Put the @!$# camera away why don’t you? Give it a rest!