Lao Tzu said Life and death are of the same thread viewed from different ends. As I looked back on some ancient memories of my childhood I almost met the other end of the string. Walker was telling me how one of his teachers, Mrs. Eaton, remembered me from when I went to Hillsboro Elementary which for me seems like a lifetime ago so that says something about the steel trap memory of Mrs. Eaton. I fondly remembered St Patrick’s day when Mrs. Eaton had ensnared a leprechaun and was holding him captive in a brown paper baggie to put him on display for us whimsical children after lunch. As I regaled the tale to a completely enthralled audience of my wife and Walker, Lincoln the devious little rogue that he is sensed the lull in my guard and decided to capitalize on the opportunity and set about maneuvering himself into a position to pants his old man for reasons unbeknownst to me. The things that entertain a 3-year-olds mind often flirt with the bewildering.
As I begin my narrative “So there’s this Leprechaun…” Betrayed by his own giggling I hear him sneaking up behind me to grab my shorts with the nimbleness of a cat and the ferocity of a tornado I execute a flawless pirouette leaving his simple 3-year-old mind confused and in awe of the raw athleticism his father just exhibited. I once again begin my chronicle ” So there’s this Leprechaun…” A lot can be said about Lovelace men, one thing that we all have in common is an aggressive unrelenting maelstrom of gritty tenacity when we have set our mind to something it will possess us with an unyielding fervor until we have accomplished whatever we have sought out to do. Lincoln is no different. On and on this merry-go-round tango we danced. He would try to expose my voluptuous buttocks and I would acrobatically evade. He would attempt to reveal my plentiful derriere and Id karate chop his little hand into oblivion. Finally, after his 8th or 9th attempt, I did what any rational mature adult would do, I was gonna pants him. Little did I know he was counting on that. Turns out I had grossly underestimated his mischievousness. As I grabbed him his giggle turned into howling laughter. When I grasped his waist band I had an instant of clarity of what he had actually been planning for me but by then it was too late. Turns out he was packing and by packing I mean about two pounds of shit. Expecting to see a tiny white booty I plunged my thumb into what I can only describe as unholy hot pudding. Another thing Lovelace men are known for is our incredibly weak dry heaving reflex. Immediately as I wrenched my thumb free of the clutch of Lincoln’s log it did not come alone my thumb now completely encased like a corndog in the devils batter. Now any one that knows me knows I draw the line at human excrement. Overcome with terror and panic I punt kick my evil progeny across the room and sprint for the sink. Meanwhile my oh so loving wife and walker have snot and tears streaming down their faces howling and cackling with laughter the soundtrack to the living nightmare Im going through. The next couple of minutes were a blur for me maybe Ive mentally blocked out some of the traumatic events that were transpiring I just remember scrubbing and scrubbing in between sobbing and dry heaving and squirting a bottle of hand sanitizer on it and scrubbing and contemplating if amputation would even ever make me feel clean again. Im pretty sure Amber passed out from lack of oxygen from laughing so much. Then I feel this tiny hand once again trying to display my curvaceous rump I was almost impressed with the resolute steadfastness of his determination as I then hosed him down with the sink nozzle. Amber had regained some of her composure and decided to give me a respite from Lincolns zeal and carry him away to change the evil burrito his diaper now had become. Quietly I sulked in the sink scrubbing the flesh from my thumb when from the silence walker decides to ask” So theres this leprechaun?…”