A little bit about me, I'm the youngest of three kids. I come from a white family, but my parents are cultured. When it came time to picking my name, they decided that they were going to do what the natives did way back and name me after the first thing they saw when i entered the world. After a few seconds they realized that, "creepy alien looking thing covered in goo" wasn't going to fit on the birth certificate. They then decided to take a more original approach and name me after the first thought they had when i was born. For a very short time my name was, "man, we're going to be even more broke than we already are. This kid is going to burn a hole in our bank account until he's at least eighteen." However, that hit the ear wrong, so my dad said, "let's just name him after me." My name is Larry, but the government knows me as "Lawrence." The government and my mother. The two biggest pains in my ass call me Lawrence. I'm just kidding. My mother is a good person. By that i mean that she means well. My mother is straight up nuts, but i chalk that up to having to raise me. Mom taught me to always take responsibility for my own actions, so I'm doing just that. Mom was always a little crazy, but i am the one who got her to this level. She's really concerned about this covid stuff. "This is terrible! We need to stop it!"
"Ma, don't worry so much about the covie."
"Why do you call it covie? Why is everything a joke to you?"
"Cos I'm an idiot, ma."
"Well, we need to do something! it's spreading!"
"Ma, listen to me, okay? Covie is huge. Have you surfed the channels on the internet lately? It's everywhere! It's getting a lot of attention. So, my advice is to just take a breath and ride it out. With all this attention, eventually its ego is going to get so big it's going to say it's bigger than jesus and fuck up like the Beatles did."
My mother worries about everything, and i think it's because she's a mother. Every mother worries relentlessly about everything. You can meet the most calm and collected woman in the world, but once a human being crawls their way out of her body, it all changes. The kid could be born in April and as soon as that kid is toweled off and breathing, they're concern is how they will manage Christmas dinner while needing to take care of a child. It's not a one way street, though. A child's life goes to hell when they're born too. Think about it. When i was a baby, i was happy. I even kept a journal. "Floated around today. Was feeling saucy so i did a back flip which caused my mother to scream something about how she was seriously considering visiting a clinic of some sort. For breakfast, lunch, and dinner, i had what mom was having. Later on i think I'll work on my cardio by using my mom's bladder as a speed bag. Life in the womb is good." Then all of a sudden I'm being pushed towards the light which, that's death! "Go into the light!"
Truth be told, if we follow expressions in the English language, life is basically a death sentence. I got pushed out. I caused my mother a significant amount of pain in order to let her know i was happy and wasn't going to leave without a fight. Like a pissed off tenant staring down a landlord with an eviction notice, i wasn't going on my own. She would need to remove me. Anyway, i was born. I was mere seconds old and already it was life 1, me 0. This was the first of a long list of failures I'd face in my life. So, this is life, huh? Okay. I can make this work. And just as i had a slightly positive outlook on my new situation, some doctor started pounding on my back like a ufc fighter. "Breathe, damn you! Breathe!" I was helpless. I tell you this; that doctor is lucky i was a newborn. If he pulled that shit with me today, I'd bitch slap him back to med school.
So, i entered the world against my will. I was slimy and naked in front of everyone, assaulted by a physician, and they snipped off apart of my body i needed to eat. What the hell was i going to do now? See? Worry is a two way street, mom. Dads aren't like that. If a kid goes skating for the first time, the mother will dress the kid up like a football player. A dad will lace them up and say, "okay, you're all set. Get on the ice and do it!" Mom will start panicking, "they need a hemlet! What if they fall and hit their head!?"
"Well, once they regain consciousness, they will be forced to learn how to stay on their feet so they don't fall on their head again."
Life lessons from dad.
My dad's catch phrase was "walk it off" and "You're alright."
Walk it off. Just walk it off, you're alright."
I could fall feet first into a wood chipper ajd dad would say, "sift through that, find the itty bitty pieces of your legs, glue them together and walk it off. You're alright."
I remember when i was a kid i shattered my finger. My best friend dropped a huge rock on it. Bonded us for life.
It was definitely broken. I remember it burning and hearing the snap as i opened the door with my clearly injuried hand. Mom came running to her child's screams of agony. Dad was calm and cool watching a ball game.
My mom took one look and told my dad he needed to bring me to the hospital.
He took one look at my desecrated finger and said, "yeah, this looks like one of those hospital things. After i finish this beer, I'll take you. In the meantime walk it off. You're alright."

© pouty