What could the Cold War, revolutions, Men In Black, and cute grandbabies possibly have in common?
I’ll tell you.
Growing up in the Cold War, we heard a lot in school about
what life was like under totalitarian regimes. Average citizens were stripped
of their self-determination and forced to labor for the state. We heard about China’s Red Revolution and the
Khmer Rouge, where intellectuals were disposed or “re-educated” in favor of a
peasant society at the mercy of the despot.
Then came the movie Men in Black. Men in
Black kept order among the aliens. The good ones worked for the government and the bad ones were ousted. The MIB had a flashing device to erase the memory of ordinary citizens who had
unwittingly discovered their activities.
When the Cute Grandtwins came into power, it all
started to fit into a pattern. I had
obviously, unwittingly, been swept up in a totalitarian regime of Cutie Pies,
sent to re-education camp, where my self-determination had been stripped from
me. They too, possessed one of those
memory-erasing flashing devices, that they had used on me to erase all memory
of sanity. Now I was forced to labor for the little despots.
Forget about writing blogs, keeping a neat and orderly house
or lifestyle, or doing the thousand things on my to-do list. The Cutie Pies have me down on the floor,
stacking blocks for them, singing them songs, clapping hands, winding up little
cars. They totally have me at their
regal mercy, I am to feed them Cheerios and cut up edamame beans. I must adore their chubby little legs and
blow on their fat little tummies as I change and dress them. Finally I pay them homage as they nap in
their Pack-N-Plays, with their sweet, dimpled starfish hands wielding absolute
power, and insisting on my complete capitulation. I am not an altogether unwilling citizen, I
must admit.
Of course, I pledge them allegiance every day, and hope they
have a long and merry reign.
But all was not well in the kingdom. The Court Physician expressed concern about
Baby Girl. Appointment after
appointment, measurement after measurement.
It seemed she had too big a head.
It didn’t match the Court Physician’s charts.
So the Parents took her in for an ultrasound to make sure
there wasn’t anything amiss. I, the
loyal peasant, sang prayers.
Huzzah, all was well, but then again the next appointment,
the Court Physician frowned, hemmed and hawed, took more measurements and said
it might be best if Baby Girl be taken to the Grand Wizard Neurologist, to be
given anesthesia and a CT scan.
In the Wizard’s waiting room were all sorts of signs for
brain cancer support groups. Having just
lost a friend to brain cancer this year, the Mother of Baby Girl had some
concerns. That anesthesia thing
didn’t sound too tra-la-la either.
Ah ha. They did not
know with whom they dealt. Baby Girl
called in the Men In Black, who convinced the Grand Wizard that Baby Girl, as a
big grown-up 10 month old, was completely
capable of lying still in the CT scanner. Men in Black can be extremely convincing. Huge weapons, you know. So the Grand Wizard skipped the anesthesia part. Baby Girl was as good as her word, and was
very still, and the Grand Wizard found nothing amiss.
Mother of Baby Girl was mighty relieved, the Men In Black
said to call them if anyone questioned Baby Girl’s prowess again. After all, they had a fond liking for big
heads, since they worked with aliens all the time.
I wasn’t surprised that the Grand Wizard found nothing amiss. Baby Girl simply has a big head because she
is a genius. And I’m not saying that because
I’m required to by law.
But I will say since I’ve told you about recent Men In Black activities, I
want you to hold very still while I….
FLASH!
