Little's Autobiography

What is there to be said about the fourth generation?

It's a funny thing when you are asked to update the blog so your son can have material for his school "autobiography". I did point out that the "auto" implied that he should be writing this himself. His response was that he could not remember much prior to age 5. Impelled by the circular logic of a teenage boy, this bit will concentrate on those early years.

He was a cute kid. He was a smart kid. Turning him upside down solved most problems. It made him laugh. Keeping him clean was an entirely different proposition. Inevitably, he found a way to be covered in some type of questionable or contraband material. Equally inevitably, he did this within an hour of his bio-mom coming to pick him up. We often wondered how he managed to fine-tune it so well well before he could tell time. My suspicion was that elder siblings contributed heavily.

One of his more memorable moments came through a routine enrollment at summer camp at Hamiliton Avenue School by said bio-mom. So off to daycare summer camp he went. The system was to break the kids up into groups and give each team a color. The boy was told to come in that color the next day. His group was given green. Okay, happy, happy, joy, joy, another wonderful kid moment, we'd find him a green tee shirt and everything would be fine. He got home to our house after camp and his mother was to pick him up after dinner. We ate and then he went to his room to get his things ready.

A little bit too much time passed, it was too quiet in the direction of his room, something triggered that radar one acquires along with kids. I went to check. Pushing the door to his room open, I was greeted by the sight of a naked child. But he wasn't simply naked. He was naked and bright green. Bright Kelly green from head to toe...hair, face, front, back, just about every square inch of available skin.

He had taken green tempura paint and had coated himself. The only place he missed was the middle of his back and only that because I came in too soon. True to his mechanically adept genetics, it appeared that he had already worked out a mechanism for application involving a long paintbrush and a hand towel. I had to laugh. His dad snatched him up and holding him at arm's length, still dripping in some spots and flaking in others, (tempura dries quickly) he rushed him to the tub.

The baby (he was somewhere between 3 & 4) was infuriated that we were removing his school-required color. From his viewpoint, his logic and follow-through was unassailable. He had expected to show it off to his bio-mom and instead found himself slathered in hot water, both figuratively and literally. Things were rather hostile between the parents in those days and his bio-mom was intent on making the slightest lapse into a courtroom drama. Naked and green would have sent her spinning on a whole new tangent. Of course, the boy had no way of knowing that. He was simply following school instructions in the most literal way possible.

We did think that he may have acquired the idea from the father and son tee shirts from one of the family giftings. Dad had a Jolly Green Giant and The Boy had one with the all-green Sprout. It could happen.