Send in The Clowns

"Are you sure this is safe?"
I have a history of underestimating the safety of activities and have the bruises, emotional scars and commemorative t-shirts as prove.

"Yes."
It would be great if he would just let me concentrate. Oh why won't he let me concentrate! All I want it to concentrate on the task at hand and then eat a burger and then concentrate some more.

"How can you be so sure?"
I'm actually interested in knowing how he can be so sure. Like I can easily see how he'd have a certain amount of sure-ness, but to be completely sure? Wow.

"I just am."
That actually is a good question. I'd say it is probably equal parts good parenting, Vitamin C and exposure to quality news programming.

"Well, I wish I had your confidence."
Or, failing that, a similar confidence that didn't clash with my favourite lime green socks.

"So do I! Could you let me think?"
I really enjoy thinking and once spent 10 straight hours thinking until I started to lose my grasp on reality and whether something was a thought I thought or real. It was awesome!

"I'm just worried it won't work. Aren't you worried? It just seems like so much can go wrong."
In fact I am even more worried than I'm letting on. I'm so worried that my insides are twisting and turning and doing flips and cartwheels before jumping for a little while under-supervised on a trampoline with a large gaping hole in it. 

"Hey! Enough of that! We have to focus or else it won't work."
And this not working is not okay. It will work or my name isn't Frank. My name is not Frank - but that is not the point now or ever. The point is quite illusive, even though points are usually quite sharp and pokey.

"It just seems risky, that's all I'm saying."
I am actually subliminally saying so much more. I am talking about love and connection and comfort and the joy that a young boy can only find when unnaturally bonded with a smothering parent.

"You've made your point, but we are sticking with this plan. We thought about everything and spent time planning each step. It will work!"

Those hours spent planning were among the longest hours of my life no matter how many times he told me that the hours were the same exact length as all other hours and that even though they may have felt long, they weren't and that was completely a perception issue that I will need to come to grips with at some point.

"Okay. Okay. Okay."

Sometimes I just want him to stop talking to me like I'm a little child. Other times I wish he'd talk to me only like I was a little child. Then there are the times when we can't stop tickling each other until we cry. It's complicated.

"Before we leave here, I need to know if you are in or if you are out."
In or out. Simple question. Although, he could stand in the middle and jump back and forth from the in side to the out side laughing with his ridiculous grin and drinking grape juice, thus spilling it everywhere.

"I'm in. I'm in. I just need this to work, not like last time."
And the time before that and the time before that. The time before those ones worked great and I'm not sure why we deviated from the plan except that I am nothing if not an encourager or plan deviations only to regret it big time later on in the evening. I never learn.

"Last time was not our fault. You know that. Billy screwed up and messed it up for all of us. And now he's gone and can't interfere any more."
No one is quite sure where Billy went. Jail? An all-expenses paid trip to Cuba? Banana shopping? Who knows?

"I hope you're right."
A small part of me misses Billy. A really small part. It's only identifiable under a microscope. And Billy conveniently took my last microscope when he disappeared or vanished or was taken. My money is on vanished.

"Aren't I always? Don't I look out for you?"
I also have thrown in looking in for you, around for you and under you at no extra charge!

"You do. You always do. Sorry I'm so stressed."
I need to unwind and nothing helps me unwind better than a nice hot tub. Not sitting in the tub, just being around one. I need to get there early, as I almost always get asked to leave by the staff for, what they call, lurking around the hot tub while everyone else is relaxing inside it.

"It's alright, buddy. Are you ready? It's showtime!"
Could I sound anymore excited and late-night TV show announcer-like? I'm just hoping there are talent scouts out there who are either dazzled by my talents or easily bought off with day-old doughnuts with the promise of fresh doughnuts at a later date.

"I'm ready. Thanks, you know, for everything."
I'm contractually obligated to thank him for everything a minimum of twice a day. Damn fine print!

"Of course."
I am happy to help him. He's like a brother to me, while I am more like a distant uncle to him. An uncle who shows up at birthdays and gives a perplexing present that makes all gathered a little bit creeped out.

"Now let's go give those kids the best clown show they've ever seen."
It was the part I was born to play. Seriously. I am badly in need of some professional help. Thanks mom and dad.