A while ago, I took the kids to Yoga.  When I say kids, I mean the two I babysit for (Pilot and Ever) and Pilot’s friend Frankie.  When I say Yoga, I mean that they have fucking Yoga for five-year-olds in New York.

Frankie is a feisty young lady who says “Please” and “Thank You” with a dimpled grin.  I’m not kidding here, she asks me how I am.  She asks me how my day has been which Pilot and Ever have never done one day in their greedy little lives.  I actually find myself wanting to please Frankie.  I’ll say things to her like  “I know I’m paying $1400 for a two bedroom in Queens…and before you say anything, I know I should make the jump to the East Village.  But when you advertise for a cozy loft, don’t show me a closet with used mouse traps.”

Frankie will look at me and appropriately respond “You’re such a nice lady.  I love you.”

I have to admit that sometimes I grow frustrated with Pilot and Ever.  They take me for granted.  They have grown tired of me.  Sure, once I was the hot new thing.  But 5 years later…I can see the glaze in their eyes when I walk into the room.  They even go as far as being emotionally abusive.  The other day, when I was a little slow getting Ever’s shoes on he says to me “You can’t do anything!”  I quickly retorted “YOU CAN’T DO ANYTHING!  ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW!?”  Pilot lets me know every time I gain weight and every time I choose the wrong block to catch a cab.  And then Frankie comes onto the scene and I bathe myself in the love and attention she effortlessly offers.  It’s intoxicating.

So after Yoga, I took the kids back to Pilot and Ever’s house to wait for Frankie’s mom.  Frankie was brushing my hair when the buzzer rang.  Frankie’s mom came up and the kids had a “show” they wanted her to preview.  Which they hadn’t even rehearsed or anything, but they set up two chairs as an “audience” so we could sit for 20 minutes and watch them talk about when the costume changes should happen.  Just when I’m about to blow my brains out,  Ever rushes into the room.  He’s holding a toy gun that shoots “lasers” by means of a laser-type sound.  Ever points his gun at Frankie’s mom and says “I’m going to shoot you!”  

Frankie’s mom very quickly stopped him.  “Ever, we are a no gun family.  So please do not point that gun at me or my daughter.”

Ummm…what the fuck did you just say to my kid?

Ever was immediately crushed.  He aimed at Frankie’s mom’s head but then seemed to lose his nerve.  He started crying and ran back into his bedroom.  I quickly followed him.  He was laying on his bed bawling.

“Hey pal.  What’s wrong?”

“My….my….my….gun didn’t work!”

“Oh sweetheart, it didn’t?”

“No!”

“You wanted to shoot Frankie’s mommy?”

“Ye…Ye…Yeah!”

“I know honey.  And then you couldn’t shoot her?”

“NO!!  My gun didn’t work!”

“Should we get you a new gun?”

“Yeah!  And then I can shoot people?”

“Okay.  Okay.  We can get you a new gun.”

“And then I’ll shoot all the people?”

“Of course you can!  You can shoot all the people.”

Ever looked up at me and wiped the tears from his 3-year old eyes.  I realized in that moment, for better or worse, this was the kid I was going to spend the rest of my life loving.  We have our problems, but we chose to go through these years together.  Frankie was cute.  And her mom was a reasonable lady – I actually hate guns myself.  But let me tell you something…when you make my kid cry with your psycho-liberal agenda that embarrasses a 3-year-old instead of just letting said 3-year-old assassinate you and then feigning your own prolonged death…you have bought yourself an enemy.

I looked at Ever’s wet face and I said to him…

“Sometimes people are bullshit.”