Intoxicating night
You know how drunks can be classified as either happy, mean, melancholy, etc. and so forth? Well, I believe the same adjectives may be used to classify tired children. For it is my belief that an extremely tired child's actions are comparable to that of a drunk adult.
My recently turned two year old son is a happy, silly drunk. My seven year old and three year old nieces fall within the same classification. So it was to the delight of all present that these three happy little drunks ended tonight's family gathering with a flury of intoxicated antics. Having just ended a late night viewing of a Disney classic in the family room, it began slowly with a few little cha-cha steps by my crazy little boy. And of course, his cha-cha steps were then met by the frolicking prancing of the three-year old, and at last met by the flitting and arabesquing of the 7 year old. What ensued next was a barrage of uncontrolled giggles, huddles, embraces, inadvertent head-butts, squeals, perspiring grins, silly songs, and various gyrations that only the exuberance and giddy euphoria of a child, keenly aware of their adult audience, could produce. Soon, the adults could no longer resist and it was time for some chasing, hugging, kissing and "rasberrying" of the drunken trio. My son was being tossed back and forth from Daddy to Uncle, "one, two, three!" -- toss! Soon he did the count himself (his first time counting), and the roar from the adults raised the decibels even louder. The three year old was now on someone's shoulders and summoning her grandpa by an extremely silly reference which brought another roar from the adults -- "Come here, queen of the east!" The seven year old had locked "auntie" in the bathroom and was giggling at her mischief as all looked on and laughed again.
This silliness continued, though it became more subdued, as all began to leave and moved from the family room to the entry hall to the porch to the cars, where the little ones' crazy antics turned to whimsical grins, snug in their car-seats, seemingly in contemplation of the craziness that had just taken place. Sleep would come to them soon...still with half-smiles.
As I drove one of the drunken children away, pensive and quiet in the darkness of my car made flickering by the oncoming headlights, an image kept coming to me of what had just transpired. The image, oddly enough, was the exterior of the house, dark, with lighted windows and gloriously happy people in euphoric fellowship within it. The thought occured to me that even angels would have envied that happy gathering and wished to enter.
My wife sat quietly beside me. Our son slept in his seat; our other son safe in her womb. I drove my three angels home.
My recently turned two year old son is a happy, silly drunk. My seven year old and three year old nieces fall within the same classification. So it was to the delight of all present that these three happy little drunks ended tonight's family gathering with a flury of intoxicated antics. Having just ended a late night viewing of a Disney classic in the family room, it began slowly with a few little cha-cha steps by my crazy little boy. And of course, his cha-cha steps were then met by the frolicking prancing of the three-year old, and at last met by the flitting and arabesquing of the 7 year old. What ensued next was a barrage of uncontrolled giggles, huddles, embraces, inadvertent head-butts, squeals, perspiring grins, silly songs, and various gyrations that only the exuberance and giddy euphoria of a child, keenly aware of their adult audience, could produce. Soon, the adults could no longer resist and it was time for some chasing, hugging, kissing and "rasberrying" of the drunken trio. My son was being tossed back and forth from Daddy to Uncle, "one, two, three!" -- toss! Soon he did the count himself (his first time counting), and the roar from the adults raised the decibels even louder. The three year old was now on someone's shoulders and summoning her grandpa by an extremely silly reference which brought another roar from the adults -- "Come here, queen of the east!" The seven year old had locked "auntie" in the bathroom and was giggling at her mischief as all looked on and laughed again.
This silliness continued, though it became more subdued, as all began to leave and moved from the family room to the entry hall to the porch to the cars, where the little ones' crazy antics turned to whimsical grins, snug in their car-seats, seemingly in contemplation of the craziness that had just taken place. Sleep would come to them soon...still with half-smiles.
As I drove one of the drunken children away, pensive and quiet in the darkness of my car made flickering by the oncoming headlights, an image kept coming to me of what had just transpired. The image, oddly enough, was the exterior of the house, dark, with lighted windows and gloriously happy people in euphoric fellowship within it. The thought occured to me that even angels would have envied that happy gathering and wished to enter.
My wife sat quietly beside me. Our son slept in his seat; our other son safe in her womb. I drove my three angels home.
posted by Wonderdog | 12:48 AM | Permalink
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8 comments
8 Comments:
I couldn't stop smiling (then crying) while reading your post, Wonderdog. I couldn't be luckier or happier. :)
Very nice! Thanks for posting this.
Sniff. That was wonderful.
P.S. Did she really say "Come here, Queen of the East?" How did I miss that, and whatever does it mean?
Scotty, I'll attend to you when we have more privacy. :)
Thanks Jeff and Kate for the kind words. Being sentimental in public (or semi-public) is never easy and that helps.
Kate, as for "Queen of the East", yes it was said and can be verified by many in attendance. As for the meaning, only that little nut of a girl would know.
It was simply an appellation chosen by the "little nut of a girl" to denote the high rank and , well...gravitas of the one described.
Queen of the East
Wonderdog: Scotty, Jeff and Kate Marie said it all, and I could not have expressed myself better! Thank you all...However, as a mere observer, I believe that the "angels" were there, all the while...
C.J.
Queen of the East,
As the little nut likes to refer to herself as "Queen" and seems to take the attitude that it denotes her own high rank, you may be right about her intentions.
I suggest that she has chosen the perfect blogger name for you. You should join Rumpus as "Queen of the East."
Knowing Wonderdog as I do, I could only think How Appropriate it is for him to look upon his child in terms of intoxication.
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