Saturday, January 14, 2006


I am not a man of too many words.

I can sit and listen to you for hours without feeling the itch to speak. Kinda like a tree or a wall. Or an old psychiatrist. It's not that I am a tree. I do talk, mostly enough to make people aware of my presence and that I am actually breathing and alive. Yes alive. Because I don't move too much either. But that's another story.

So I'm not a man of too many words. Yet sometimes, just sometimes, something happens, planets misalign, winds blow northwest and southeast at the same time, fish start swimming upstream, and I, man of not too many words, start talking.

Not just talking, but talking like there's no tomorrow like I just miraculously discovered the gift of speech like I had spent my life memorizing all the books in the Library of Congress and it was time to share like there was a big crack in the Great Dam of Silence and the whole world was about to get flooded for forty days and forty nights with umm.. let's say unnecessary information. In short, talking kinda like what you just read.

So I taaaalk and taaaalk and then I stop when I realize, well into my enlightening discourse, that the poor soul I was talking to had been gone for some time, not because they weren't interested, well probably that, but also because they had a life to live and goals to pursue that didn't involve my largely unsollicited tangential soliloquy.

What's also interesting is that they usually leave without notice, my victims, not meaning to interrupt maybe, or perturb the depth of my thought, but probably just grabbing the first opportunity to run. Sometimes I'd be looking at them while talking to them, and I see them simply turn around and walk away! I don't know about you, but to me, this "I got distracted and wandered away" strategy is just inconsiderate and rude. So I'm lengthy, irrelevant, and boring. But don't just leave me hanging like a demented old lady! it hurts!

Anyway, as you might have guessed, I usually talk to adults, since I pretend to be an adult myself. And granted, adults are restless and busy. I mean they have things going on in their lives all the time that don't necessarily involve me. But what about kids! Kids are different, no? they are free spirits. They have time and patience and imagination! They should embrace me with open arms!

Yesterday, to my bitter dismay, I realized they were no different, children, the human subspecies I identified with and thought I'd be understood by the most.

This is what happened. And please, whoever you are, keep the details of this story to yourselves. I won't be able to handle another dose of emotional devastation, disenchantment and humiliation before long.

Carrie, our neuropathologist's five-year-old daughter was in the neuropath office waiting for her dad to finish work so that they can both go home and have a yummy dinner. I was there too, in my sub-office, minding my business, reading my textbook and working on my slides.

It was getting close to 6 pm and daddy had to leave the office for 10 minutes, so he asked me to keep an eye on cute little Carrie, so I did. But I also felt the need to make conversation and entertain the little doll. And I did that too. Little did I know. The little monster. Here's the conversation that ensued.

Me- What's your name?

Carrie- I don't want to tell youuu

Me- Oh then I guess you don't have a name!

Carrie- Yes I DO!

Me- It's sad to not have a name. People can't call you to give you candy...

Carrie- But I have a naaame. You have candy?

Me- Maybe (No). So what is your name then?

Carrie- Emmmmmmmmmm.....

Me- Ok if you don't tell me your name, I won't tell you mine.

Carrie- Carriiiie (playing with her parents' umbrellas)

Me- Carrie! That's a beautiful name! Do you carry it with you everywhere? (hehe)

Carrie- (Looks at me funny while still playing with the umbrellas)

Me- You like umbrellas?

- Yeaaasss

Me- These are BIG umbrellas, bigger than you.

Carrie- No they're not!

Me- Uhu. They are. See the yellow umbrella is taller than you and the blue umbrella is wider than you. Do you sleep inside the umbrella? Is this your house?

Carrie- Nooooooooo

Me- You could if you wanted to, you know.

Carrie- But I don't fit inside!

Me- Sure you do! Once you go in you will see a BIG house with a BIG bed and fluffy sheets and candy!

Carrie- (Again, looks at me funny)

Me- Do you know Alice in Wonderland?

Carrie- (she shakes her head as in No)

Me- You don't know Alice in Wonderland? It's a great children's story. Well if you haven't yet you will. Alice is a little girl who went with a rabbit down a rabbit hole and saw a wonderful magical land called wonderland and while she was there she met the caterpillar and the cheshire cat and she ate the ca..

Carrie- Goodbye

Me- Goodbye? you.. you don't want to listen to the story?

Carrie- Noooo! Goodbye!

It felt like she was saying "You're boring. Shut up. Go away. No I'll go. Loser"

She waved at me and went inside her dad's office. Her daddy wasn't back yet, as if you hadn't already guessed. That's what you get for being nice and informative.

The mean little barbie doll brat.

It took her father fifteen minutes to come back. I didn't tell him what had happened because I didn't want him to be too hard on her. Because I knew he would understand.

In the meantime, on that friday the 13th's dark and stormy night, I buried my face in a boring neuropathology book while I pondered the meaning and purpose of literature, art, science, history, society, happiness, and life.

Especially mine.


Blogger La La said...

Fouadi: Kids are brats. Honest brats though. I must say, you are quite the multi tasker...pondering the meaning and purpose of all those things while reading about neuropathology!

2:24 PM  
Blogger Fouad said...

burying my head in the book, not necessarily reading it :)

3:25 PM  
Anonymous ghassan said...

At least with children you don't have to worry where they stand ( most of the time).Its the grown ups who have honed deceit into an art form.

4:52 PM  
Blogger Firas said...

I find this post funny ... on multiple levels. :)

5:38 PM  
Blogger Fouad said...

You're absolutely right ghassan. I love kids and their spontaneity. Carrie is absolutely adorable. But what happened when it happened was too funny not to mention in a post, especially in the context of my conversational quirks..

Eh Firas, I knew you would :)

6:49 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

did it ever occur to you that you've been addressing the wrong pple/children?
how come we are so willing to listen -well read- what u have to say?
surely u r not that boring!

oh and i hate alice in wonderland, it scares me.


12:57 AM  
Blogger Fouad said...

Come to think of it, it is a little scary isn't it. But anyway, thanks f. for the vote of confidence. I will try and be more picky about the five-year-olds I hang out with :)

8:46 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

good one fouf!
so maybe u just catch them at a bad time!
ok so what i am tyring to say is, i luv lsitening to what u have to say, even though i don't always agree with u.


10:09 AM  
Blogger Zanzounito said...

Kids are evil. I fought with one the other day for looking at me wrong. ;)

6:49 PM  
Blogger Fouad said...

hehe :) you go girl!

7:16 PM  
Blogger Delirious said...


12:57 AM  
Anonymous Your Favorite Season said...

Fouad, sometimes I think that I am in love with you.

2:59 PM  
Blogger Fouad said...

You think too much :)

10:07 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

who's in luv with who?
(or is it whom?)

you guys... ok just reminded me of foufou and nounou!
ooops, sorry, terribly sorry, but just couldnt help myself.


1:36 AM  
Anonymous Katia said...

Precious, and funny, the two of you, to say the least.
Might I add... Next time, try :
not saying a word - kids are curious brats
inventing a story together - better yet then any old ones

7:03 PM  

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