Four days in a hurricane
Four days living inside the eye of a hurricane is not something easily described, but here goes. My son’s family decided to go to Ocean City, Maryland, for the Fourth of July. Later, our daughter decided to do the same, and since child number one’s accommodations had been previously booked, we decided to tag along with our daughter and her family.
Until three years ago, this would have been a rather peaceful excursion because her three oldest kids are 15, 12 and 10 or maybe it’s 15, almost 13 and 10 1/2. Yeah, that’s sounds better. Anyway, then God blessed them with a baby boy, with beautiful brown hair and two-inch-long eyelashes. But, as they always say, appearances can be deceiving because this half-pint is hell on wheels, a cross between Damian and one of those cherubs you see in paintings at the Vatican. I know it sounds like I’m just an ole grumpy codger, but honestly, after five previous grandkid experiences, there is no question he is truly “the wild child.”
Don’t get me wrong, we love him to pieces, but he’s a hurricane on two feet. Peter is a very physical, boy’s boy. He loves to beat the snot out of you anytime he can catch you off guard. Anytime is his favorite time for smacking you with a closed fist, a dump truck, or a clawed digger when you’re asleep or comatose. He sneaks into the bedroom at 6 a.m. and screams as he jumps on you from the night stand or dresser. Or he waits until you’re deeply involved in writing your next story for the newspaper when he smacks you in your man parts with a garbage truck. “Ouch, Pete, that hurts.”
Pete also does not care for the word “No.” When it’s directed toward him, there’s always a direct response. No matter what it’s in reference to, i.e., “Don’t throw that sand,” he steps back, looks deeply into your eyes, and throws more sand at you. If you’re on a beach full of sand, you’re buried.
This “Peck’s bad boy” also loves to yell as loud as he can at the most inappropriate times. For example, all the time. Sometimes his screams sound like wounded animals, and that leads people to believe that someone is abusing him. (But that thought is only something that is tucked away in the deepest, darkest corner of his siblings minds.)
He’s also very articulate for a 3-plus-year-old, but that may be because he’s living among five other people with a combined age of 114 years, all of whom read and discuss complex things like the Theory of Relatively. You know, “It’s relatively hot outside today.”
We love him best after he’s eaten or wakened peacefully from a comfortable nap, which rarely happens. His siblings favorite expression is “Don’t poke the bear” because poking Pete when he’s in a foul mood can be near lethal to everyone around him. It’s not unusual for him to run from adult to adult to kick and hit them. Usually, only his 15-year-old brother is willing to tap him back on the butt when he is in his demolition derby mode.
Please don’t get me wrong. We all love him dearly, and he can be a very sweet boy, but I’m sure that the yellow caution tape you see near certain crime scenes was created for our buddy. My daughter probably won’t let me send this to the editor, but no matter what, it’s going into Pete’s “Early Years” book so he can have a great laugh when he gets his Fulbright Scholarship, his commission to be a jet pilot, or his PhD in Psychology. Goodness knows we’ll all need a psychologist by then.
Nick Jacobs of Pittsburgh is a Principal with SunStone Management Resources and author of the blog healinghospitals.com