There was an old rap song by Ed O.G. and the Bulldogs called "Bug-A-Boo" and it went a little something like this:
"Now this is the meaning of a Bug-A-Boo
It's a person who's constantly BUGGIN YOU
Never givin you no room TO BREATHE
On you like skin, or a shirt WITH SLEEVES
A person that constantly wants to be around you
It could even be your moms or pops when they hound you
Just someone who's always botherin you
If you was a plant, they'd be continuously watering you"
Now Ed must have been some kind of psychic, clairvoyant, fortune telling hip hop artist, to so accurately describe in 1991, my life with my precious three year old. It's like he spent a day with us and went right into the studio to record this song.
I understand that it's normal for a three year-old to crave the attention of their parents but I'm sorry, there's a line that separates normal attention seeking and Bug-A-Booing. And Morgan crosses that line every day at about 9:17 a.m.
For example: If your kid eats two packs of oatmeal, a whole apple (sliced just the way she likes it without the skin), and a cup of chocolate milk at 8:21 am, there's no way she should be shuffling into the kitchen at 8:32 claiming hunger. No way.
But like I said, I get it. Whatever it takes to get mom or dad's attention is fair game even if it's asking the same question every 5 minutes.
9:04 am: Daddy can we go to the swing park?
No baby, it's raining.
9:09 am: Daddy can we go to the swing park?
No baby it's raining.
9:14 am: Daddy can we go to the swing park?
No baby it's raining.
9:19 am: Daddy can we go to the swing park? Daddy? Daddy? Daaaaaaaaddy? Daddy I'm talking to you.
And it's no coincidence that this Bug-A-Boo-ness gets worse after a visit from a grand or great grandparent.
Yeah, I said it.
These people come into your home and devote every minute they're there to showering your kids with love, affection and worst of all ATTENTION. But THEN....they leave! And now we're stuck with these little people who have grown accustomed over the course of one week, to being the center of attention, 24/7. And when reality sets in that mommy and daddy lack the patience or desire to forego eating or paying bills just to play memory for the 213th time, then that's when they regress to Bug-A-Boo form.
In the short time it took me to post this, I've heard:
Daddy I'm hungry again.
Daddy I'm thirsty.
Daddy can I play the guitar?
Daddy, Papi is in his doghouse.
Daddy can you turn the t.v. down?
Daddy I can't hear the t.v.
Daddy is this your shoe or mommy's? (with heels)
Daddy I don't like birthmarks.
Daddy is the season now or rectangle? (she's desperate)
So Ed O.G., I applaud your special gift to see into the future but I would kindly ask you NOT to include anymore of my family's personal business into your records. No matter how accurate it may be. And now as I end this post with Morgan sitting on my lap, I send a message to any of her grandparents who may be reading this: COME SOON.
