There’s this kid at Anthony’s school whose behavior pretty much defies all that encompasses what one could consider normal, even for a kid. But before I get on that, here’s a synopsis.
For starters, all of his school equipment—clothes, backpack, etc.—are all too big for him. It’s almost as if his parents decided to buy larger stuff so that it will last him until he reaches high school even though he’s only in the first grade. The backpack is riddled with all sorts of trinkets that rattle and shake as he makes his daily run across the kindergarten yard to the first grade yard. All the while, he’s singing or babbling incoherently in the hopes that somebody will listen.
Then there’s the jacket, about three sizes to large. So large is it that I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen the kid’s hands; the sleeves hang over them about four inches, making him look like he’s got broken wrists or something. But now that I think of it, he looks a lot like Brobee from Yo Gabba Gabba! when he flails those arms all over the place.
And did I mention he wears glasses and, at the same awards ceremony that Anthony attended a few months ago, he won an award in—wait for it—math?
Put all of those things together and you have one odd little bird. You know, like that kid in A Christmas Story that was talking about The Wizard of Oz to Ralphie? Yeah, he’s kind of like that. But wait, there’s more!
After our last rain storm lightly doused the area, Anthony and I witnessed something that we haven’t quite been able to get out of our heads. You see, this kid—nameless to us until this incident—did his usual running through the kindergarten yard, stopped at the chain link fence where his class lines up, dropped his backpack, and started to lick the chain link fence’s pole.
And behold, The Pole-Licker had a name. And while this little moniker was used exclusively to describe the kid in question, it’s now become synonymous with any type of kid we come across that possesses the same qualities (or other odd traits) as the original Pole-Licker.
Think of them as walking, breathing Trivial Pursuit games: full of useless knowledge, longing for a purpose in this day and age and willing to say anything at any given time:
“Do you know why that tree is so big?”
“Oooh, a plane!”
“I ate pancakes for breakfast.”
Or you could just think of Ralph Wiggum back when The Simpsons’ writers still cared about him.
All of this said, Anthony started his golf classes this week and is doing fantastic, even enjoying it more than I had ever imagined or than his t-ball season. Not once has he asked to go home or said that he was bored like he did at t-ball. He is thoroughly enjoying it. Photographic evidence:
Just look at the concentration! The kid’s gonna go far, I tell ya!
Anyway, before the kids could even pick up a club, they were lectured on the rules and regulations of the golf course and class. And for the most part, they are all easy to follow and Anthony hasn’t had a issue with any of them.
While we were waiting for the first class to begin on Monday, we looked around us and noticed something. There were a lot of kids in this class that were, for the lack of a better term, extremely affable. Not about anything relevant but just whatever they could think of.
Yes, it’s true: Anthony’s class is filled with Pole-Lickers. No, I’m not going to post incriminating pictures of them just based on their personal appearance because Lord knows that’s immediately qualify them for the name. But I did take one shot of Anthony while he was on the putting green waiting his turn.
He’s standing there looking curiously at the kid next to him—who was licking a golf ball.
I’m not kidding. The kid was standing there licking his golf ball.
Ewww, people! WTF? The kid’s old enough to wipe his own ass! There’s no reason why he should be licking a golf ball…not that there’s ever a good reason for doing it, but you know what I mean.
So anyway, yeah, the classes run until Friday when Anthony and all of the Pole-Lickers compete for prizes in a putting tournament.
And hopefully, some of those prizes will be Tootsie Pops.
2 thoughts on “The Pole-Licker”
I don’t even know what to say. Oral fixation at it’s finest, I guess? I always call those kids paste eaters, but pole licker is another good one.
I was thinking of a word that began with “re” and ended with “tarded” but that would be an insult to those that really were.
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