The Return Of Dino-Mike
Over the last couple of weeks, my nephew Dino-Mike has been here visiting. He and I have been to the zoo, water park, bug and alien hunting, swimming at our local pool, and on the bike trails. It’s always go-go-go when there’s a 6-year-old in the house.
Dino-Mike has made some friends in my neighborhood. There are a handful of kids his age who keep him busy when I am too tuckered out. It’s a beautiful thing.
Timing on this visit was off by a mile, however. My old man and the kids are in California, vacationing without me. I thought about brining the little dude with, but when I couldn’t get his father by phone, I decided taking him across the country without parental permission, is too close to kidnapping, and I’m too straight for jail.
The two of us have been making the best of having the house to ourselves. One thing I have trouble with is cooking. I am used to feeding grownups, teens and preteens not little guys. I only know how to cook for an army. Since he kept asking me for a grand tostado, and knowing his father is dating a girl from Mexico, I assumed he wanted Mexican food. Tostados are Mexican food, right?
So I took the little shit out to a place that makes the best Mexican food. He noticed the TV was on.
“Auntie Lois, that’s Telemundo, eieieieieieieieahahahaha!”
I obviously don’t know how to spell that excited sound you might hear on Telemundo, but little Dino-Mike knew how to impersonate what he heard.
He finally sat down and looked at the menu. Acting as if he were really reading it, he looked over the edge at me, and said, “Auntie Lois, I want a burger.”
“A burger? I thought you said you wanted a tostado. That’s why I brought you here.”
“No I don’t really like that kinda stuff.”
“Then how come you told me you wanted me to get you a grand tostado?”
“I wanna do that at your house.”
“I don’t know how to make those very grand, buddy.”
We finished our dinner and headed home. He went into Lane 1’s room and yelled for me to help him put the Playstation 2 on. When I got in there, he was holding the game, Grand Theft Auto.
“This is the grand tostado I want, Auntie Lois.”
You try explaining what a parental warning label is to a 6-year-old. He hated me for twelve whole minutes for saying no. Thankfully, he has the attention span of a gnat.
I’m going to have to try getting an audio post out of this kid before he heads back home. He is hysterical and if you remember the last time he was here, I said he did a pretty good impersonation of E.T. Stay tuned.