Kindergarten cop! That’s the name of the movie. Remember that? The one in which the cop becomes a teacher for some flaky reason or other. It was rather fanciful I recall, I may be wrong. It is to the only Schwarnegger movie I've enjoyed. Anyhow, the reason I’ve been thinking about Kindergarten Cop is that there was one line that stuck with me verbatim. That scene where he asks the children what their parents do for a living and the twins say ‘our mom says our dad is a real sex machine’.
It was a cautionary tale to be careful what we say around children. They mayn’t understand but they can certainly repeat. Now I don’t just think its funny; I relate to it. I had my own ‘real sex machine moment’ recently.
Kofi was in a meeting with his carpenters on our porch. They were accounting for the monies he had given them and everyone was rather serious and focused. I was taking a shower. Vin was sleeping, Dovie was in our room playing. I came out of my shower whistling happily. Dovie had left the room I noticed as I got a move on with my primping. Towel dry, deodorant, body lotion and then I turned to the bed for the panties I had taken out to wear. They were nowhere to be found but I could have sworn I had taken out a mint green pair and put them on the bed. Never mind, I shrugged, pulled out another pair and went back to dressing up.
Finally, satisfied with the day’s look I came out of the bedroom. From the sound of it, Kofi was taking a call in the driveway and Dovie had gone out to the patio. I went to fetch him so he wouldn’t bother the carpenters. I stepped onto the porch and there was Dovie waving his hands around, talking gibberish and wearing around his neck my mint green panties. He was also holding out to one of them something he wanted him to have. It turned out to be a pink pair of panties, mine naturally. I have no idea where he got them from.
The poor carpenter, embarrassed to his very core, was trying to get him to at least put his hand down and take the pieto out of his face. ‘Thank you, Dovie, good boy, take it to Mummy’ he said. ‘Gye’ Dovie replied.
He was even more embarrassed yet relieved that I happened outside at that particular moment. Me, I was mortified. Why would any son of mine want to hand a carpenter my underwear? A pink one too no less. ‘Hey Dovie bra’ I called sternly. ‘Na’ he said, which in doviespeech means ‘no’ and rans off. We spent a few annoying moments running around the porch, he and I, and looking ever sillier.
Eventually, I caught the little brat. I took him indoors and regained possession of my underwear. He is only a baby, not even two. i couldn't smak for that. but my inclination to smile at him after that stunt was considerably diminished. The little bum didn’t so much as fake a repentant expression. He just went blithely on with his play. Very ‘o well. If I can’t have your pieto, lets see, what about your hard drive?’ Ugh!! There are times when I want nothing more than to give him a crisp spanking or yell at him. But I know it wouldn’t be fair. He was just being his age and gender.
I took a deep breath, exhaled audibly and sweetly said ‘Darling why don’t you go and play with Papa’. As he will come to recognize in time, the more I want to smack him unfairly the more saccharine the ‘go away’ is. That one was baklava sweet. God I could have killed him.
In the end I composed myself, as one must when she has no choice, and went back out to the porch and the carpenters. ‘Gentlemen’ I said, ‘how are you this morning?’ ‘Fine Madam’. ‘Good, glad to hear that.’ I put a book on the table for Kofi that he didn’t need and exited quickly, but regally, I like to think. I’ve avoided them since. I can’t wait till they finish here and move on. They should hurry up with their work and go and position themselves on somebody else’s porch. Damn Peeping Toms!