It’s Elementary, My Dear Malcolm

Posted by Big Daddy Paul in Malcolm Stories

I just saw the dumbest ad on TV, and I can’t shake it. In it, a talking truck says “I vow to never complain, never give up, and never say never.” I certainly understand the sentiment, but why would you make a vow that breaks the vow IN THE VOW ITSELF? Dude, you just said, “Never” four fucking times! It has to be one of the most ass backwards sentences ever written.

Of course, I fancy myself a writer extraordinaire, so I will try my hand at even more idiotic lines:

I had some really nice pastries at the Agnostic Jews For Jesus bake sale last night.

The worst thing about vegans has got to be the salami breath.

I got a tattoo. It says “I Have No Tattoos.”

Ok, that’s enough lead in. We made Malcolm vow several years ago to never grow up. (Nicely done, eh? You didn’t think I could get here from there, but I did! I told you, writer extraordinaire!!!) We liked our little tyke, but were concerned that the cute, cuddly little smurf was turning into a little boy that talked about butts all the time. We wanted to hang on to the little boy sweetness as long as we could, telling Malcolm that when he “grows up” (even a little) he’d be going off to work in a coal mine. It worked for a while, but it appears that he has now broken his vow.

We learned yesterday that Malcolm will be joining the elementary classroom at his school. We like Malcolm’s school because they told us he would move Malcolm from the preschool classroom to the elementary classroom whenever he was ready to move on and not based on any strict age deadlines. We like to let other people make all the tough parenting decisions for us. (When he gripes about the HPV vaccination, we get to blame Rick Perry!)

We thought this would mean Malcolm would be hitting the big time next summer, or perhaps January at the earliest. Just to make sure, I tried to keep him immature and stupid over the summer by enrolling him in sports camps and having him watch C-SPAN coverage of Senate floor. Evidently, it didn’t take. His teachers started running out of work for him during the first week of the school year and came to the consensus that it would be better for him to move up to a new classroom than infect the younger kids in his room with all the butt chatter.

So now he goes. Gone are the days of his comfy blanket, his hot breath blowing up against our neck while he slept on our chest, and the words, “Wuv” and “Eleventeen.” I will miss the little bubbling mass of dulcet pudding, even when it is being replaced by a beaming tower of awesomeness. We are proud, but it is bittersweet, as he takes another step in the journey that will one day culminate in him becoming a man.

A man who will hopefully have the fortitude to one day say, “I’ll never say never.”


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