Monday, May 29, 2006


The greatest source of the mess in our apartment is Coco. If he treats future lovers the way he treats his toys, I pity them. He either tears out the insides and spreads them about or he simply loves and leaves. Either way, there’s a trail, with Coco at the far end, searching for some other entertainment.

Therefore it’s curious that some forms of dirt really bother him. For instance having new shoes get dirty is an injury that cannot be borne. This is especially vexing to parents when it includes the soles of said shoes since he has yet to meet a puddle he can resist. Another such item is dripping food, especially ice cream. Not that this would encourage him to slow down or use utensils. It just means that the tail end of many a meal gets to be rather vocal.
So it is always a mixed joy to eat ice cream with the young master. Especially since ice cream stores seem to want to make up for their exorbitant prices by scooping too much into a cone – more than an adult could eat, not to mention a three-year-old. Drip. Drip. “Nakkin! Nakkin! Daddy!”

Last weekend, we were having some very delicious ice cream (you should try Uncle Louie G’s if you happen to be in the neighborhood). The whole family was together and Julie and I were observing the kids in the stroller. Madge is old enough to concede that sometimes a cup and a spoon are more useful than a cone. One down. As was to be expected, Coco’s ice cream started to melt and drip down the cone. As it was about to reach his hand, he tipped the ice cream to halt the progress. The little dear has already figured out gravity. Bless him.
This scenario is not new to me, though, and often ends, predictably, in a spilled ice cream. Therefore, all I could do was stammer, “Coco, uh, the, uh, your, uh,” because I was going through all the things I’ve said in the past that didn’t work and had the adverse effect of him yanking the ice cream away and making a bigger mess.

So I decided to be a smartass and said, “Coco. Big picture.”

And kiss my ass if he didn’t set the whole cone upright and hold it so I could wipe the ice cream trail with my napkin.

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