Lost in the Milky Way

Sweet mother of all that is good, there is nothing more fascinating to me as a breeder, than the difference in the Boy(s) personalities. And the way certain personality traits mirror My Lovely Bride or my own.

Take the Younger Boy. He's a chopped down version of me. Both in appearance and personality. But the thing is Dear Reader, when I was his age, I was more like the Elder Boy. Quiet. Sensitive. Bashful. I'd rather blend into a crowd or be a wall flower than be the center of attention.

For reasons I'm not exactly sure of, that changed in the 5th or 6th grade. I got over the bashful thing and became much the way I am today (which is very much like Wyatt.) Mind you I didn't really change in the way I thought about stuff. What I found funny. Or how I felt about things. All that remained the same. The difference was how I acted to the greater world about it all.

My Dad often talks about the fact that his twin was very gregarious and ornery as a kid, while he was shy and quiet. At some point their roles reversed. Much the way my personality shifted. Which is my heavy-handed set-up for this BLOG entry about my first storytime with Wyatt's kindergarten class.

One of my favorite posts on this here BLOG (It made my 2007 recap) is the story of reading to Ethan's kindergarten class. If you have the time and inclination, read it, as it illustrates better than I could ever describe, how different these Tinsley Boy(s) truly are.

Before we get started I got to make one more point, to give you context.

I'm Mr. Mom a lot these days. My Lovely Bride, back to working full-time, at the very school were storytime goes down, cannot read to Wyatt's class this year. This was not the case for Ethan's kindergarten and 1st grade year. Both My Lovely Bride and myself read often. Not Wy. He doesn't have that luxury. He only gets me. And he had to wait until December to get me because of a mix-up in my schedule and storytime back in October. This upset the Boy. For the past month or more, he'd ask when I was going to read to his class. After I'd tell him, he'd tell me how some kids had already had four parents read to the class. I would then tell him that those were children of divorce and although it might sound good, divorce sucks, the same way it sucked that I hadn't got the chance to read to his class yet. But soon.

Soon happened on Thursday, December 3, 2009 which found me in the library talking to the librarian when Wy's class filed into the room.

As soon as Wy saw me, he beamed. So excited. Priceless.

The librarian stopped the class and asked Wy to come to the front of the line. Then she took me and him to the chair at the front of the area, while the rest of his class came in and sat on the floor in front of us.

"Class let's welcome Mr. Tinsley back to storytime." The librarian said.

"Mrs. Nowacki," I said to the librarian. "This is my first time with Wyatt's class. I've done storytime this year, but it was for Ethan's class."

"Oh," she said. "Well Wyatt, can you introduce your Dad then?"

"Yes." Wyatt said, and then he walked around in front of me, in front of his class, like a mini-emcee and shouted, "This is Mr. Tinsley! My Dad!!!"

On cue his class shouted back, "Hi Mr. Tinsley!!!"

I couldn't help but laugh, not only at the class' in unison shouted greeting but because in all the times Ethan has introduced me at storytime, he hid behind me when he introduced me. In fact, you could barely hear his mumbled intro which he would say and then promptly go and sit down with his class. Usually in the back row. As far from me as possible.

Not Wyatt.

After his introduction, he spun around and grabbed the books from my hand, climbed upon my lap, got settled, and then said, "Let's go, Dad."

"Ok, then." I said to Wyatt when I noticed a little girl in the second row had her hand raised.

"Yes." I said.

"Are you Wyatt's special dad?"

"Special?" I said confused at what she meant.

Wyatt wasted no time in answering her, "No!" he shouted in that loud, husky voice of his, "He's Captain Inappropriate. It's awesome."

Then he laughed. Actually cackled, at his own bad joke which made the class bust out in laughter.

It was while the librarian was trying to get the wheels back on, and the kids quiet that I figured out what the girl meant by special.

"You mean his Grandpa?" I asked her.

The little girl, looking sheepish, nodded her head, and then said, "Yes."

"Really," I said incredulously, "I look that old?"

"YEAH!!!!" screamed the entire class.

Fuck me, thankfully I thought.

"My Grandpa is dead." Wyatt said.

Sweet mother of all that is good, Wy turned uncomfortable up to 11 with that statement.

You could feel the tension rolling off the librarian and teachers in the back of the room.

"That's not true." I said to Wyatt.

"Oh yeah," Wyatt said.

I could see the adults in back relax, until Wy shouted, again in that husky over loud voice of his, "My Granny is dead!"

"That is true." I said to the class. "Wyatt's Granny is dead."

"She was his Mom." Wyatt told the class.

"That's true." I told the class. "She was my Mom."

You got to love kids. While the adults in back were stressing, the kids sat there watching the Captain Inappropriate and his trusty sidekick, The Little Warrior show, unfazed.

"Ok." I said finally. "Let's get started. But first I have to ask you all something. Something important."

They all looked at me. Intently.

"Really?!? I look like his Grandpa?"

They all nodded their heads, slowly, and said, "Yes."

"Awesome!"

Until I BLOG again...For the Life of Riley.