It's Only A Rerun - Hitting Below The Belch
No InBox today. I have one sick kid today, and a deadline looming over my head. Forgive me, I'll be catching up blogs this weekend. In the meantime I'm going to post a rerun from 9 months ago. Happy Halloween everyone!
Hitting Below The Belch
When it comes to little girls, they don’t come much cuter than Allie and Avery. Allie, who is six, has a serious demeanor that allows her to impress adults with sincere explanations on how WalMart exploits their workers. “It’s because they won’t pay for their health care benefits,” she say in a matter-of-fact tone. This usually prompts an astonished look from Allie’s audience as they marvel at her charming grasp of such a grown-up subject. Five year-old Avery is much worse. Her face alone can induce a smile on even the rudest of people she comes in contact with, while her natural charisma allows her to make frequent use of words like, booty, panties and “bagina” in casual conversation, doubling over anyone within earshot into fits of laughter. Teachers claim they would easily take a hundred versions of Allie or Avery in their classes any day, and old ladies ask if they can scoop them up and take them home to love forever. It’s difficult for people to use adjectives such as precious, adorable and darling without thinking them to be inadequate in their attempting to describe these little princesses. One would think.
But, as is usually the case with all things seemingly perfect in the world, looks are deceiving. This is especially true for Allie and Avery as they are, in truth, anything but sugar, and spice and everything nice. My initial impressions were not unlike those of anyone else when Ashley introduced the two of them to me. Allie explained the need for tighter controls on gas emissions, while Avery stood smiling nearby, swaying back and forth in her flowery sun-dress. These girls cannot be born of a woman, I thought, Only Heaven could create such perfect angels. What I discovered soon afterward was that this was merely a ruse. Disguised underneath those shiny halos and snowy white robes, a hidden darkness existed.
I used to scoff at horror movies like The Shining, The Omen, and Children of the Corn whose resident evil turned out to be psychotic little kids, that is until I started spending more time with Allie and Avery. If I were to mention this to anyone, it’s almost certain I would be soundly dismissed as a hater of children. You laugh at my ridiculous assertions, but I can assure you the evil that they wield is both real and serious. So just what is this dark power possessed by two innocent little girls? I will tell you.
These delicate little flowers unleash burps so horrifying atheists fall to their knees and cry out to a suddenly existent God! I can understand if you find this claim to be slightly outlandish, so allow me to explain the supporting evidence in more detail.
My experience with this unholy evil began the night of the first-ever dinner with Allie and Avery. Their mom had prepared everything herself, and it was delicious. I inhaled large forkfuls, hand-over-fist in a sincere demonstration of my approval. To anyone observing the scene, it would have appeared almost Rockwellian with the happy family, enjoying each other’s company as they sit smiling around the dinner table. I was so engrossed in this heartwarming moment that I was caught completely off guard by the horror soon to be revealed by Allie and Avery, who were currently shoveling down healthy portions of food themselves. Without warning, they opened their mouths and uttered a sound that can only be categorized in Biblical terms as apocalyptic.
Once the ringing stopped in my ears, I cleaned the blood from my now punctured eardrum. Not wanting lose my composure on such a crucial evening in our fledgling relationship I politely joked that Ashley might want to have these little dears tested or something. Ashley’s response was a blank stair that told me she didn’t get it. Ooookay, never mind, I thought. Besides, was it really so important that I needed to ruin an otherwise perfect evening? I tried to convince myself it wasn’t, but another part of me still thought it unusual. I mean, it’s just not normal for such frail creatures to bellow sounds at decibel levels high enough to drowned out the screaming turbines of a commercial airliner at take off, and with such ferocity they could reduce the mighty King of the Jungle to live out his remaining days as a gay vegetarian.
I felt it inappropriate to curb such abnormally rude behavior myself, but I didn’t expect Ashley, as their mother, to condone it and especially in the presence of a guest. In dramatic fashion I picked another piece of broccoli from my hair, sighing loudly as I placed it back onto my plate, and then looked at Ashley in the hopes she would take the hint. Being a parent of three boys myself, I believe it necessary to keep children in line and I expected Ashley to deal with the matter accordingly. Admit, I felt a slight degree of satisfaction in the thought of watching Allie and Avery being admonished for such inexcusable table manners. Kids are kids, but that clearly was uncalled for, I thought. Little princesses certainly don’t act like that. I watched their mother furrow her brow, giving both girls what appeared to be the unmistakable stare of parental sternness. Serves them right, I watched as Ashley’s mouth opened to deliver a harsh rebuke or maybe just a gentle rebuff. I was feeling merciful tonight. My assumption couldn’t have been more wrong.
In fact, what happened next was infinitely more shocking. Rather than words, Ashley unleashed the very sound of Hell itself, launching a fresh round of broccoli and mashed potatoes into my face and hair. A round of high fives followed as mother and daughters congratulated themselves as if they’d just won a year’s supply hand lotion on a family game show. What only minutes earlier had been a pleasant supper, was now a scene that easily could’ve been never-before-seen outtake from the movie Animal House with me playing the part of an up-tight freshman pledge.
"So this condition,” I asked, “is it genetic?" The gravy was already drying on my skin.
After repeated episodes over a period that included many meals together, I came to realize that this dark power of theirs was neither medical or genetic. Scraping the remnants of another evening's meal off the usual spots on the wall behind my chair, I pictured Ashley negotiating a sort of Faustian agreement with a hideous fire-belching demon. It was hard for me to imagine what Ashley’s part of the bargain was, maybe this foul spirit handed it over willing just for the hell of it. In any case it’s clear what Ashley received, but that she shared it with the Allie and Avery throttled me. It's one thing to watch Ashley conjure forth the stench of burning sulfur mixed with chili cheese fries in the face of a three-hundred pound, leather clad, biker forcing him to fall on his knees and plead for heaven's deliverance. It's quite another to witness Allie and Avery join in on this savagery as they repeat mommy’s performance it in each of his ears thus vaporizing his body into a cloud of ash as he spontaneously combusts.
We’ve all seen kids get away with a burp here and there in public, giggling at their achievement, but these are just the normal antics of a child. Usually they are able to squeeze out one maybe two with a little bit of effort, but that’s it. Sometimes they try to continue the hilarity by faking a burp, replacing the actual sound with a deep, low growl, or by forcing it, which sometimes can trigger their gag reflux, inducing vomiting. I’ve seen this before when a third grade classmate of mine attempted this same technique and ended up shooting chocolate milk from both of his nostrils. This had less to do with demonic spirits, than the fact he was a dork. Allie and Avery, I’m sure would laugh in mocking pity at their peers' pathetic and foolish attempts to harness such power. A power, I will add, measurable, not only in volume but in length, as Allie regularly belches long enough for her to shift from first to fifth without missing or grinding a gear. Avery’s can be just as long, however she tends to be more musically inclined, belting out tunes such as “I’m a Little Tea Cup,” and “Jesus Loves Me.”
Since moving into together, a decision I question after each of these episodes, I have gained some ground in what should be considered as an unholy war of eructation between good and evil. Following the principle that the best offense is a good defense, the first step, of course, was to recognize the signs preceding, what I call, "the unleashing." Most telling is the rapid gulping of vast quantities of food or carbonated beverages, followed by a glazed-over look of concentration similar to that of senior citizen pissing in his adult undergarment. Upon seeing the signs, I’ve learned to cover my ears and crawl under the table. It’s the classic duck and cover. What also best is to remain in that position for several minutes as there are almost always aftershocks. To counter these “unleashings” straws are now required for drinking, while any, and all beverages containing carbon in any form have been outlawed. These initiatives have had a marginal effect in minimizing the damage, so proficiency is still required in ducking and covering.
In an attempt to at least establish some standard of Christian decency, I started demanding of the girls, mother included, to piously chant, "Excuse me, I'm a princess" following each demonic eruption. My hope in doing this is that these goblins will repent in the sanctifying knowledge that "real" princesses are much too proper to engage in such devilish acts. At first, I believed this Ms. Manners form of exorcism might actually be working until it dawned on me how they were rejecting my offer for salvation by turning the chant into a mocking taunt. It was during a Saturday-night dinner several months ago, when I finally determined that all such redeeming efforts were a lost cause as Allie, mouth gaping, double clutched into fifth and then downshifted back to first.
"What do we say, Sweetie?" I calmly reminder her as I crawled out from under the table.
She turned toward me, and broke out into a grin. "That was a big one!" Allie, her mother and sister erupted in an unrestrained celebration complete with more high-fiving and chest bumping. I just hung my head in defeat. Forgive them Lord, they know not what they do.
I would never be so presumptuous as to considered myself a saint but I would gave take the title over that of martyr any time. That is to say, I'm beginning to get the sense that my very life might potentially be in danger, and not at the hands of powerful belching. Destructive as this force can be, there’s an even more murderous and sinister force at work now. It’s the littlest one, Avery, that’s responsible for this new found fear in me. This hideous evil, I imagine to be the culprit in wiping many civilizations from the memory of the earth. Now that evil was in the stubby little hands of a five-year old girl who can hardly walk down the aisle of grocery store without “accidentally” knocking off most of the products stacked on the shelves.
One evening Avery and I sat on the couch, bonding over a few episodes of cartoons. I looked down and smiled affectionately as she shifted closer to me. The idea of that this little doll could be capable of gastrointestinal mayhem was all but forgotten in this quiet moment. In the distance, I heard a gentle roll of thunder, barely audible over the television. Was it supposed to rain tonight, I wondered. Seeing how this was mid-summer, a time when storm activity is highly unlikely, I ruled out this possibility. Then I heard it again, but a little louder. What could that… Oh Sweet Jesus!
The sound, as I correctly deduced, was not thunder, but instead, a horror so ghastly, it makes me nearly choke as I relay it to you. What appeared next was a stench so sickening it made the maggot-filled, carcass of a dead donkey, decaying in feces, smell as fragrant as a bottle of Chanel. This dark odor lifted me into the air and hurled me into the wall behind us. Dazed, I got to my feet and slowly approached Avery, making signs of the cross with each step. Avery, however, appeared as if she never even budged though the whole thing. I said her name. Lightning flashed, and her head spun a full 360 degrees stopping when it locked onto my presence. "I like you, Ron." she said with the most unnerving of smiles. Then she patted the seat next to her, "You're funny."
Lord hear my prayer.
Want to see video proof.
