Anyone who knows me also knows that I don’t like mornings. And by “don’t like,” I mean I hate mornings with the fury of thousand sleeping beagles when the UPS man rings the doorbell.
I am an unapologetic night owl and have been from an early age. I’ve had to get up early for most of my life, but I have never learned to like being awake before, say, the reasonable hour of 10 a.m. – and no one can make me. So there.
At any rate, I work hard to keep my morning chagrin to a dull roar, especially around the people I love most (everyone else just has to take their chances). That means that I fake morning happiness for the sake of my wife and kids, two of whom are morning people (Commies!) and the other who isn’t really a morning person, but who has to be awake early so she can go to school. She and I grunt our way through our morning car rides to her bus stop. And we’re both okay with it.
One of the ways in which I’ve learned to manufacture morning joy is come up with funny names for my kids. I’ve spent many a dreary morning, staring into the mirror while brushing my teeth, trying to come up with a funny name with which to greet Thing 1 or Thing 2 (a.k.a. Fred and Frank). This tradition has resulted in classics, such as:
- Little Miss Dangerous
- Kid Funky Fly
- Pinky Tuscadero
- Sir Poops-A-Lot
- Sister Christian
- E.W. McPoopy
- Jimmy Pop
There have been hundreds, if not thousands, of names over the years. My thought has always been if I can make the kids laugh, then I’ll have reason to smile when I’d really just prefer to be in a dark room with the blankets over my head.
So, that brings us to this morning.
I saw Eric before Alexa and I left the house (Alexa’s bus stop is in her mom’s neighborhood, requiring a short drive and wait for her bus to arrive). I wasn’t quite awake enough yet for the Kughen Name Generator (Patent Pending) to have booted up and be fully operational, so I greeted both kids with stock terms of endearment, such as “sweetie” and “buddy.”
Upon returning home and walking in the door, I was struck with today’s funny name for Eric. Our conversation went like this:
Eric: Hey, Papa! [Said as he ran up to me to hug my legs while I pulled off my coat]
Me: Good morning, Pee Wee Reese.
Eric: Why did you just call me “Pee Pee Grease?”
Me: [Laughing hysterically] What?!?
Eric: Why did you call me “Pee Pee Grease?”
Me: [Still laughing – actually LOLing, and quite nearly ROFLMAOing] No, I called you “PEE WEE REESE.”
Eric: I thought you said “Pee Pee Grease.”
Me: “No, I said Pee Wee Reese.”
Eric: I like “Pee Pee Grease” better.
My Inner Monologue: Of course you do. You’re Kughen Spawn.
Me: Hmmmm, yeah, well, let’s not share that one outside the house, okay?
Eric: [Running off] Pee Pee Grease, Pee Pee Grease, Pee Pee Grease…
My Inner Monologue: What’s the over and under on whether we’ll get a call from the school today?
If every morning opened with a belly laugher like that, maybe I could get the hang of this morning thing. Maybe.
