Why me?
Why?
Yes, I know you are saying “What’s up with the lamentation Cake?, I mean you are good-looking, just got a big fat promotion, have a beautiful family, pretty wife, new car and of course did I mention that you are Good-Looking?, what more could you want and really what could you have to complain about?”
My kid is a magnet.
A loser magnet.
Actually if the truth be known, I would be O.K if it was just Losers she attracted but these are Dorks too. Card-carrying, Gold-member, Urkel-flavoured DORKS. Bona-fide right down to the tape on the glasses and lack of social grace dorks.
Now, before the dorks unite or one of you who “used to be a dork but you turned it around” folks jump all over me, let me clarify one very important fact.
I like dorks.
As a matter of fact when I was in school I was nice to, and friends with just about every dork in school, hell, I would seek out dorks outside of my school so I could be nice to them (O.K, that’s not true) But the fact remains that I am a supporter of the nation of Dorkage and am not an enemy.
Until now.
My oldest Girl is 10. She just got dragged half way across Canada to a new city, new house, new neighbourhood and most importantly (and disturbingly noisily if you are me) school.
This means new friends too. Respecting that Sam was going to miss her “old” friends my wife and I kept our celebrating over leaving Sam’s friend Sonja (AKA “Freakshow”) behind. This kid was a piece of work but before I pick on her too much, it does need to be pointed out that she was autistic. Not “real” autistic (Wappner, gotta watch Wappner…Wappner’s on!) but mildly so. Of course when we meet Sonja for the first time both my wife and I are taken aback at her bold declaration of whatever seemed to be on her mind at the time, “You know Sam, I don’t really like your sisters, I just being nice to them because of you”…as she SITS RIGHT BESIDE SAID SISTERS!..ergo the “Freakshow” handle. Of course, her “request” for snacks was charming too “You got snacks, right?..oh, never mind I got 'em”, then she continues on to scarf an ENTIRE BOX OF FRUIT ROLL-UPS!
SCARF, SCARF, SCARF!
So, anyway my wife and I have our little high-five celebration knowing that we will never again have to listen to this strange little kid announce her full name to us on the phone again (yes, including the middle AND hyphenated last name) even though we know who we are talking to and she knows that we know who we are talking to and every one else who could know does know but she still had to say “please tell Sam that…Sonia Louise Falkanberg-Anderson called”
Even though we were proud of our little girl not getting sucked into the inherent “mean-ness” of being in the in-crowd, a small, petty, insecure piece of me really, really wanted her to spend more time with her “cool” friends and less time with “freakshow”. Now, I could understand Sam’s choice here because her “cool” friends treated Sonja just like the other cool kids treated the losers I knew in school, which is to say they were mean and nasty. I know that having Sam as a friend helped her to avoid some of the troubles that come with being different, that in some small way Sam’s coolness afforded her some sort of schoolyard version of Big Tony’s “Protection” But damnitt, this is my little girl here and sure if this was an after school special I might be taking the high road but it isn’t and I have to put up with these kids, I am not saying that I just want my kid to hang with the cool kids just the normal ones.
Un-cool = O.K
Freakshow = Not O.K
So here we are, new house, new town, blah, blah blah. I am on the couch watching my Bombers well, BOMB and “Ding Dong”, who could that be? Why it’s Sam’s new friend Kelsey “Is Sam home?” she asks, “No, she is at the Library” I reply “Please tell her that Kelsey was here” she says as she skips merrily off down the sidewalk. “Great” I think to myself, “she seemed pretty nice”, as a small shudder snakes it’s way down between my shoulder blades.
Do-do-Do-do
Do-do-Do-do
Do-do-Do-do
Turns out that the young Miss Kelsey bumps into the female side of the Makeiff clan returning from the Library and accompanies them back to the newest Casa Del Cake.
As she enters the Garage ~
“Sniff, Sniff…what do you store in here, Horse Poop?” (No, my garage has no odour other than 10-w30)
As she “officially” meets me ~
“Can I stay for dinner?”
As my youngest brings out a bag of Marshmallows for roasting ~
“Gimmie that!” (as she snatches them like Timmy P trying to pick up the double D batteries that mysteriously rolled out of his pant-leg in the elevator last Thursday)
“Seems like Sam has found a replacement for Sonja” my wife whispers to me as the kids fling flaming gobs of sugar to and fro. “Yes” I agree and it dawns on me that if the worst thing that my kid turns out to be is a Loser/Dork magnet but she herself stays cool, I could live with that.
Maybe.
…we have an opinion from inside the Casa…Mrs. Jones just came down and peeking over my shoulder at this she said “What, you couldn’t find any kids in wheelchairs to pick on?”
Ouch.
I mean sure I am making fun of a 10 year old on the Internet, picking on a little girl. What, this makes me some kind of Bully or something?
Look, if my kid ends up by choice or circumstance to be the shield for those that need it, then O.K but is a man wrong to prefer different?
Is he?
“It seems like once people grow up, they have no idea what’s cool”
~ Bill Watterson