By: Kaye George on Friday, 09 November 2018

“Little Lord Fonzelroy” by Kaye George

Beautiful spring day in Ohio. Laundry room in the basement. Hanging clothes on the inside line from the dryer so they won’t be a wrinkled mess. My son, as usual, hungry for a snack. How does he always know when I don’t want to be interrupted in the middle of a task? Demanding a snack. Right now. A snack. “Did you hear me, Mommy?”

Son, who skipped Terrible Twos, now four. Fearsome Four. Bigger, stronger, and much smarter than a Terrible Two.

Current popular television shows: Welcome Back, Kotter and Happy Days. Current heroes: Vinnie Barbarino and The Fonz. Maybe a mistake to let him watch those programs?

Recently tried, “Up your nose with a rubber hose.” Discarded that one a few weeks ago when it didn’t get a rise out of either of us.

Today, hot and tired from playing in the backyard. Irritated and growing more so. Can’t see why I don’t stop what I’m doing to make him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Right now. Explanation involving clothing and wrinkles and looking nice doesn’t get through that sudden, urgent need for a sandwich. Right now.

Fearsome Four, cute little pipsqueak, less than half my height and a fraction of my weight, halfway down the basement stairs. Lower lip sticking out in a perfect classic pout.

Stopping my task for a moment. “Birdie will sit on your lip,” said with a softening smile in a singsong voice.

Big, luscious brown eyes narrowed. Fierce look on his chubby, adorable baby face.

In his darling little-boy voice, quoting The Fonz: “Aayy. If you don’t make me a sammitch right now, I’m gonna flatten out your body.

I lost it. I laughed so hard I doubled over in tears. Soon, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.


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