Glossary: Talking shit - Talking a nonsensical or unrealistic way (from Urban Dictionary)
“Your Aunt Gina loves you right now but you just wait a few years until you develop your own personality, she won’t be able to stand you, just like the rest of the kids…”
This is how my only sister once described me to her son, my youngest nephew, whom I love and adore and whom loves and adores me (and he’s old enough to have a personality now and still loves me thank you very much!). In my defense, I can tolerate kids, so long as they are not talking absolute bullshit in the presence of people who are twice their size and thrice (or more) their age.
I come from era where kids were not even allowed in the room where grown-ups were talking, let alone to talk shit to the grown-ups any ole time they feel like it. I am always baffled to see adults debating this and that with their children. Isn’t one of the perks of being a grown-up the unquestionable authority we have over anybody less than 18 years old? I have seen my nieces and nephews say things to their parents that I wouldn’t even say now, at the ripe ole age of 40. I digress…
The reason my sister has labeled me an angry ole kid hating bitch stems from an altercation I had with her then 7 year old step-son, at a McDonalds, with my grandmother sitting right there at the table. God help me - the image still makes me cringe all these years later.
My step-nephew has always been a, ummm, challenging kid. Even as I try to tell this story I struggle with the way to describe him because on those days where he’s seriously misbehaving, the only adjective I can think of is asshole and it just doesn’t seem appropriate to call a 7 year old an asshole, right? Anyway, so I’m already living in Chicago and I’ve flown to Nashville, hooked up with my mom, sister and her kids and we’ve driven down to Memphis to visit my brother et al, my grandmother and my old friends. We’re at the McDonald’s near my grandmother’s house eating lunch (my grandmother is pretty old and has a hard time getting around so it’s better to hang close to her house), all of us, at a big long table in the back of the restaurant. The entire meal, my step-nephew is talking shit to everybody and I’m growing increasingly pissed off at him, and at my sister’s inability to control him. My grandmother sits quietly while we all bicker with him. I have no idea what he was even talking about but at some point I had an out-of-body experience and the next thing I knew I had jumped up out of my seat and across the table, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Our faces no more than an inch apart, through my gritted teeth, “you say one more word and I’ll beat your ass right here in the middle of this restaurant! In case you haven’t noticed I’m way bigger than you and you should be very afraid!” I’ll never forget the look on my grandmother’s face as she stared at me, eyes stretched wide, mouth gaping open with half chewed food in her mouth. It’s the only time in my life that I ever remember thinking my grandmother was ashamed of me. “See, I told you he’ll make you crazy”, was my sister’s only comment as she chuckled at my insane loss of control.
The rest of the meal we all ate silently, them probably wondering if Aunt Gina really is the kind of crazy bitch that’ll beat up a kid in public and me thinking all the time, thank God I don’t have kids. I’m not cut out for this.
