Dear Mom and Dad,
I want to remind you of something, because it seems that your brains, however physically large they may be in relation to my own tiny brain, are failing you. I shouldn’t have to be reminding you of things, but I will do it because I am kind. And handsome, but that is not the point.
Here is the point: YOU wanted me to be a walker. Desperately! It’s all you talked about. “Oh, Nolan, he is a little on the slow side…look at Sebastian and Daisy and Juliana from prenatal class. All walkers! But not our Nolie. We think he is kind of lazy and also that he will most likely smoke pot in college. He always has the munchies.”
I heard it all. Don’t think I wasn’t embarrassed. Don’t think that I didn’t put on a virtual sweatband every night in my crib, picturing myself as a junior Rocky running up the stairs of our house, pumping my fists in victory. I WILLED myself to walk. And guess what? I’m a walker! Did you think I was just going to stop walking and start sitting again once I got going? Are you that naive?
So WHERE HAS YOUR ENTHUSIASM GONE? (I’m not yelling, it’s just that capital letters means enthusiasm on the internet).
Why has your elation over your firstborn’s athletic pursuits abandoned you, seemingly the instant I got up on those little toothpicks you call feet and started barreling through the house? Was it because of the time(s) I smashed my face into the toilet, causing an epic loss of blood? Did you not like that? My are you precious.
There is no turning back the sands of time. I believe that was the message from a 1980s era soap opera, if memory serves. And so here we are, just a family of three walkers, living the dream.
At this time it seems that you feel I belong corralled (jailed!) in my “playroom”, which is totally illegal of you. Call my lawyer for details.
Now that I can move on my own steam I would like to propose the following renegotiation of our common spaces, and the rules guiding use of such spaces, so that we may all live in harmony. Kumbaya, etc. etc.
Renegotiation of Common Spaces
1. All space is my space. The first order of business is to remove any and all gates you have installed (Side note: have you really installed them? They seem kind of flimsy to me) around our home, particularly those blocking my access to the stairs. How do you expect me to maintain the physique coveted by the under three set at Gymboree without use of stairs? It’s a recipe for obesity right there. If you want to let yourselves go, fine by me. Don’t drag me down with you.
2. Your lap while you’re going to the bathroom. I don’t care which number you are going. Your lap during this time is common property. I am welcome to sit on it, lay my head on it, place stray objects I’ve found in the kitchen on it, etc. You get the idea. If you don’t believe me, look it up on the internet. That’s where all of your other knowledge comes from, no? Sure when I was just a lame “unsupported sitter” I would wait patiently at your feet, playing with excellent toys like your box of tampons. But those days are over now. I’m a walker. I have places to be. Places = your lap.
3. The drawers. Drawers are mine. All of them. The contents in the drawers are mine. All of it. Do I even need to go into this further? I believe I’m being clear. I will open and close and then reopen all the drawers all the time. You can’t stop me. (*You can stop me, but putting safety latches on every single drawer in our house is expensive. You don’t have that kind of money, I’ve reviewed your financials.)
4. A 5 foot radius around the toilet paper dispenser. The toilet paper belongs to me, legally speaking. I bought it. Ok I didn’t buy it. But it is still mine because possession is nine-tenths of the law. And I am the one wrapped in toilet paper 9/10s of the time, which is a resounding legal victory for me.
5. The curtains and lamps. You know how lately I’ve been pulling the curtains down off the rods and the lamps off the tables into a crashing disaster on the floor? That’s right, I thought you remembered. Those are my items. I have frequent flyer miles at Home Goods so I can just replace these when the mood strikes. Don’t worry about it, you know you’ll want to see what’s on offer in the Spring Collection anyway. You’re welcome.
There is only one of me and you’re acting like this is the end of the world. Remember when you visited Colin and Clara? There are two of them. That is called twins. Try watching them for a day, then get back to me about how tired you are.
I’m tired too. I’m a walker, remember. Ex-hausting.
In review: ALL SPACE IS NOLAN’S SPACE. Say it with me, it will help you remember: ALL SPACE IS NOLAN’S SPACE. Practice on your own until you feel confident.