Jah Amiel at Three Years Old

Jah Amiel at Three Years Old
His grandpa says, I would rather have Osama Bin Laden knock on my door than Jah Amiel, now three years old.

When he knocks on my door I know my house is about to be destroyed worse than the Twin Towers in 9/11.

I'm known as Messy Marv so I can't get down on my grandson too bad, especially since his birthday is two days after mine, his is May 31, mine May 29. So I am very conscious that I am looking at myself at three years old and now understand why my dad used to beat the dog shit out of me, especially when we went to that Methodist boring ass church that he used to take me down in the basement to whup my ass so I would come back upstairs and be quiet.
But I was simply bored to tears.

Anyway, Jah Amiel ain't gonna be bored when he comes to my house. He's going to find something to hold his interest. He's going to make something, anything into a toy so he can play. But most of all he wants to play with me. I tell him I'm busy on the computer but that means nothing to him.

Grandpa get off the computer and play with me.

If I don't stop he will suggest I allow him to watch Michael Jackson on Youtube, anything but the Thriller, he don't want to see the Thriller because it scares him. But Remember the Time, he loves that. That cat. Those baby lions. The fire eater getting his head chopped off. The queen telling Pharoah she's bored to tears. He's down with all that.

And he likes Smooth Criminal and Billy Jean. But I won't stop to put on Michael so he's bored. And he wants to play. Actually, I tell him I gotta lay down since I been up early writing.

He says no Grandpa, please don't go to bed. The sun is up, so you can't sleep now. He don't understand I sometimes write from midnight to six in the morning, so it's nine or ten now and I'm tired. I tell him I need to take a nap, but he will have none of it.

Grandpa don't go to bed, play with me.

But I'm really exhausted, I gotta lay down. He won't have it. He comes into the bed with me, says he wants me to read to him but my books don't have the pictures he likes. So I just recite a parable or fable to him, the Black Bird, the Sleeping Lion, anything so I can nod off for a moment. When I nod off, I feel him peeling back my eyelids. I awaken since he's totally impossible. I realize this little guy is actually torturing me, peeling my eyelids back, that's torture when you're trying to sleep. Then he wants something to eat, so he pulls me up, literally, because I don't want to get up so he pulls me out the bed. I get up to fix him something to eat, then try to go back to bed. No, no, Grandpa, don't go back to bed, play with me.

Jah Amiel, little boy, I love you but you gotta go home to yo mama and daddy. I get up and let him out the door. Bye!

Grandpa you ain't nice!

Bye! See you later alligator!

After while crocodile, he yells, heading for his mama's house up front.
--Marvin X
12/11/10