My Son: The Zombie

My 10 month old son is a virus infected, flesh hungry, moaning zombie, who crawls the floors of my home, seeking innocent victims.

There.

I said it.

It's out there, now.

I feel better.

I fear that I may be partially to blame for this. You see, I have an affection for zombies, and zombie-related films, and such. My wife does not share this, and she will not watch them with me. I guess that makes her the innocent victim, here. She birthed the undead. Kinda cool if you think about it, though. However, I doubt she shares my enthusiasm.

You're probably wondering why I think my son crawls the earth, craving brains. It's a legitimate concern. Plus, even if you aren't wondering, I'm going to tell you anyway. So deal with it.

The other day, the boy was crawling around the house, like he does. Actually, he doesn't really crawl. He refuses to use his legs. He just kinda pulls himself along, with his arms, and drags his lifeless body behind him. While he does this, he moans. Creepy moans, too. "UhhhhhhhhhhOhhhhhhhhOoooooooooooo......." This goes on until he gets to his destination, at which point he says, "Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....."

On this particular day, I happened to be his destination. So, he was pulling himself around, making his creepy noises, and he gets to my leg. He pulls himself up to a standing position, looks right at me, says, "Ehhhhhhhhhh....," and then bites me in the leg......HARD.........And it hurt.

How could it hurt?

He only has 2 teeth!!!

Then he laughed.

I yelped.

"YELP!!" I said.

I could have written the whole thing off as something cute, that a small child was doing.

But he did it again.

TWICE.

IN THE NAME OF ALL THINGS HOLY!!!!!!

HE'S TRYING TO EAT ME!!!!!!

AND HE'S LAUGHING ABOUT IT!!!

That ain't right.

I'm his father. I don't know that it's written down anywhere, but I'm pretty sure that it is some kind of fauzx pas to eat your parents. Unless, of course, you are a zombie baby.

I swear to you that, if the boy could reach up to my skull, he would crack it open and start feasting on the caramel, brain, goodness that resides inside my skull......Yes, I believe my brain is full of caramel. I mean, there's gotta be something in there, right? God knows that it's not filled with "brain stuff."

Anyway, the time change is having an affect on "zombie baby." He can't sleep, at night, very well. As luck would have it, I don't sleep very well, either. I have "night terrors" that keep me awake. These are REALLY scary nightmares, that seem REALLY realistic, and make me want to stay awake rather than have them. So, rather than have dreams about people I love being murdered, in unspeakable ways, I lay awake.

This is NOT GOOD when the Prince of The Undead is occupying the crib 30 feet away.

I can hear him.

He's moaning his undead moans......

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.....Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....Ooooooooooooooooooooo...."

I'm not certain, but I think last night I heard him say:

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaadddyyyyyyyyyy.....I'm going to eat your brrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnsssss.......Want caraaaaaammmmmmmeeeeellllll."

I kinda freaked me out.

My wife, of course, does not believe me. She thinks it's cute.

"Oh, look," she'll say. "Max is trying to rip the flesh off your calf, with his teeth.....I'll go get the camera."

Must be nice not to have to live with the threat of "baby zombie" attack, every night. I wish that were me.

But, it's not.

The boy is already standing up in his crib. So, it's only a matter of time. Eventually, he'll be able to crawl over the side. Then, he'll pull his body down the hallway. He'll pass my daughter's room. He'll go around my wife. He'll pull himself up, on my side of the bed. Then, he'll dig his teeth....BOTH of them...into my skull, and all I'll feel is the gentle dripping of caramel, down the side of my head.

A sticky death, at the hands of my zombie son.

Casey