The Coffee Shop Kid

I'm eavesdropping at the coffee shop.  This kid just came in with his mom and the kid is delighting me with his crazy banter.  "Hi! Should we order some chicken farts?  Sorry, I just like saying that.  Look at that feather!  It's a peacock feather.  Pea and Cock.  Cockadoodle Doo. Mommy, take a picture of me.  I want pie.  Look Mommy, there's a cactus.  There's a cactus, Mommy there's a cactus over there."

"Yeah, I see it," said the mom.  She's not that into the kid's schtick.  I could see that this kid could wear you out big time and, truth be told, I hope he shapes up a little bit before he gets to Thirdland.

 I get like this kid sometimes.  Just blathering random comments for no reason. Not just 5 minutes ago, I wrote in my notebook, "What if I drank this entire bottle of Cholula Sauce that's on this table?  I don't see any rules about the Cholula Sauce anywhere, so why wouldn't I?"  I didn't know what else to write, so I just fell into nonsense.  That's probably what's going on with this guy.  He doesn't know what else to say, so he's just rolling with his stream of consciousness.  I wonder if the mom would say something like, "Hey, let's talk about rabbits," if he would gain coherence.

In short, this kid and I were destined to meet up for a short time today.  I'm heading home and he is staying behind, bugging his mom about how much syrup he can put on his pancake.  "Now I need a fork! Oh come on! Don't eat my pancake, Mom!  Grownups don't eat pancakes! I'm growling now.  I'm called The Growler.  So how is your breakfast everyone?"

He's obviously super high maintenance, but I think he has his head on straight. Seems to know what he wants out of life.  Carry on, Coffee Shop Kid.