ABSTRACT
Good friends fi nally put their resources together and made themselves a child. Me, I’m the godfather in the deal. I take my job seriously. So far I’ve introduced the kid to the good things in life — chocolate, beer, cigars, Beethoven, and dirty jokes. I don’t think he cares much for Beethoven. But he’s only a year old, and he’ll get tired of chocolate, beer, cigars, and dirty jokes. I haven’t told him about sex yet, but he’s got some ideas of his own already. I won’t go into details here, but if you have ever had a little kid or have ever been a little kid, then you know what I mean. Also, I introduced him to crayons. Bought the Crayola beginner set — the short, fat, thick ones with training wheels. Every few weeks I would put one in his hand and show him how to make a mark with it. Mostly he just held it and stared at me. He had a cigar in his other hand and couldn’t tell the difference between it and the Crayola. Then we went through the orifi ce-stuffi ng phase, where the Crayola went in his mouth and ears and nose. Finally, last week, I held his hand and made a big red mark with the Crayola on a sheet of newsprint. And WHAM! He got the picture. A light bulb went off in a new room in his head. And he did it again on his own. Now, reports his mother, with a mixture of pleasure and pain, there is no stopping him.
