Bride of Bubzilla
Written by: Josh November 22 2011 Well, this day had […]
Well, this day had to come sooner or later.I didn’t think it would come quite this soon, but here’s the news, ladies—my son has his first girlfriend, so back off. He’s taken, off the market, spoken for … so to speak. And no, her name does not rhyme with Bora.
I will take credit for introducing them, since, well, Bub can’t speak, has no real means of getting around or social networking. Don’t meet too many women on the ol’ playground. Even less in winter, there, Bubber.
So the names and details have all been changed to avoid the paparazzi crush. But Bub met his new lady friend at a picnic, we’ll say. We’ll also say said lady friend’s name is Cordelia. Underrated name, right? Anyway, they met in the usual way, I suppose: I sat down on the end, closest to the exit, Cordelia’s mom was sitting in front of me. We start dispensing baby stats faster than ATMs spit out twenties. I put Bub down on the floor, Cordelia was in an infant car seat; not exactly the thrill of the hunt.
Bub did actually circle her once, like some kind of orangutan mating ritual, his orange giraffe rattle in tow. It was weird. Cordelia just watched him, though, with her big brown doe eyes. She was clearly a classy dame; she would not make the first move. Which, unfortunately, led to this…
It seems Bub has been imbued with his father’s keen sense of feminine intuition and overt sexual ineptitude. You’re welcome, Bub. This equated to him standing up against her carrier, banging on it. The beginning of 2001: A Space Odyssey came to mind for some reason. He then extended his arm toward her face … and slapped it repeatedly. I could see where this was going (he was already stealing my techniques), so I swooped in like Eliot Ness, extricated him, apologized to the mom.
I gave Bub a stern talking-to about boundaries and keeping your hands to yourself. He played with a handful of snot. Cordelia just sat there, cool as can be, never even flinched. And that’s when I began to suspect it was serious. Could love really be so simple? It was eerily similar to how I courted his mother. Minus the giraffe.
Speaking of, that was clue #2 that the two were an item. I took him out of the room for a bit of fresh air—I think we all needed to cool down after that display. When we came back in, I was horrified to see Cordelia had commandeered his giraffe, seemed to have taken a liking to it. Perhaps it was simply Bub’s musk. Bubsession, from Calvin Klein.
But things weren’t really confirmed in my Phillip Marlowe mind until the hand sanitizer showed up. The Maltese Purel. Bub actually reached into Cordelia’s mom’s purse while I was distracted and grabbed the travel-size bottle. Obviously having never encountered such an item, he shoved it directly into his mouth. Correction: he didn’t shove the bottle in his mouth, but rather some sort of stringy attachment. Like for your keys or something? I have to admit, I’ve never heard of this hand sanitizer stuff, either.
Anyway, I took it away, gave the slobbery evidence and an apology to the mom. A couple minutes later (details are sketchy as to how), I swear Cordelia had the bottle, and was chewing on the same stringy attachment. That’s as good as making out in my book. I’ve certainly counted less than that as such.
We had to leave shortly after that. Bub had to get to bed (alone). Ah, young love. So sweet, so innocent, so drool-ridden. Poor Bub, he never even got to say goodbye. Of course, he can’t talk, so that should have eased some of the pain. And he got his giraffe back, full of Cordelia drool as a nice memento of his first love.