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Strolling The Yards At Corcoran

Strolling The Yards At Corcoran

Uggh. I need to vacuum, don't I?

Uggh. I need to vacuum, don't I?

Sometimes if it’s cold in the mornings, Mr. Right-Click will put long tube socks on Mini and pull them up really high, like how old skool basketball players would wear them. If it’s really, really cold (like, say 60), he’ll pull the socks up on the outside of Mini’s sweatpants, making them go all the way up to his knee with the sweatpants tucked in. Then he’ll bring him in to me, and he’ll say, “Mini, did you tell Mommy that you’re ready to stroll the yards at Corcoran State Prison?”

I don't know -- maybe there are other convicts who stroll the yards with grilled cheese and sippy cups. What do I know?

I don't know -- maybe there are other convicts who stroll the yards with grilled cheese and sippy cups. What do I know?

Usually, Mini will ignore this, or say “No?” as a question, like, “Is this one of those instances where it doesn’t matter if I understand what you’re talking about?” And then he’ll ask to watch “the show.”

So, this morning Mini comes into the bedroom and he’s got on a choice strolling-the-yards outfit. The only things that would make it more complete would be a hairnet and a flannel shirt with just the top button buttoned. And Mr. Right-Click says, “Your son is a gangster.” And I say, “Mini, you’re in a gang?” and he says, “Yeah.” And then Mr. Right-Click says, “He’s ready to stroll the yards at Corcoran.” This is pretty much business as usual at our house. Except for after that, Mr. Right-Click asks Mini if he wants a bite of this breakfast bar thing that he’s got, and I guess this must be secret toddler jailhouse slang for something, because Mini yells, “NO!” and keeps repeating, “Nonononononono!”

And then, things got really weird.

Mini runs over to the corner of the bedroom and stands there, butt to the wall, and I’m thinking, “Now where the fuck did he learn that?” So I say, “Mini, have they been trying to get you to drop the soap over at preschool? Or something?” While I’m busy doing this, Mr. Right-Click grabs a banana, and he’s coming at Mini with it in his left hand like a shank, and is saying things like, “I’m coming after you, punk!” and then Mini says, “RAWR!” and Mr. Right-Click runs away screaming. Then Mr. Right-Click picks up Bruin Bear and Lamby Lamb, and he says, “We’re coming after you in numbers, dude!” But somehow Mini manages to win Bruin Bear and Lamby Lamb over into his gang, and then it’s just Buzz and Mr. Right-Click standing alone. And before I know it, Mini is forcing Mr. Right-Click to brew jailhouse wine and give him all of his cigarettes.

And I’m back at the part where Mini knows that the corner boasts the best and safest view in the circumstance of a jailhouse riot.

Comments (8)

  1. Jana
    Oct 30, 2009

    Apparently Mini is no fool… 🙂

  2. Oct 30, 2009

    Yes, I’m torn between pride and concern about how he could figure this out. I *thought* this was a reputable preschool, but now I’m not so sure.

  3. Clearly, neither one of them is too interested in the parole hearings scheduled for later in the month.

  4. Oct 30, 2009

    I know, inciting a gang war in a prison is not how you get your ass paroled, I’ll tell you that much!

  5. Oct 30, 2009

    Corcoran! And it is pronounced that way too. Your hub must be an east coaster like mine. And you have obviously not hung with the homies admiring their bad prison tatts:-)

  6. Oct 30, 2009

    blast. You’re right. I’m editing.

  7. Oct 30, 2009

    I started to comment, but then I got distracted by that muckraking thing on the side, and it was so perfect that I forgot what I was going to say.

  8. Oct 31, 2009

    Damn, but I have GOT to know how many people land on this post ’cause you’re talking Corcoran. I’m laughing imagining them.

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