We never expected much from Guy, pronounced gee. It’s a French-Canadian name. Sure for the first few years, he was a cute baby just like his older brother, but then peculiar things started happening. For example, we tried potty-training him when he was two, but he always shit his pants.
Learning to walk wasn’t much better. I shouldn’t even use the word walk. It was more like crawling and he did it on his back, moving with his shoulder blades. Other parents would whisper behind my back. Though my son was certainly not a genius, I wasn’t deaf.
They’d say, “What a dumb kid,” which I didn’t mind. It was true. But, they’d also say, “Damn, what are those stupid parents feeding that child.” I certainly am not stupid, just because my child is dumb. I might have mumbled this out loud. Some parent argued about some guy named Mendel.
So what if I fed my child peas. It’s a vegetable and it’s healthy for him. Maybe those parents somehow knew that he never really ate them, but instead just put them down his jammies. It was also hard feeding him because when we’d pretend the spoon was an airplane, he’d sometimes fall off his highchair. Maybe all those falls made him dumber than the other kids. All those falls were also the reason we never had much hope for his future.
To be completely honest, we didn’t even think he would survive long enough to have a future. He was the type of kid, you expected to see on television, getting his five minutes of fame, as some metro reporter named Brock might broadcast, “A Flint, Michigan man was tragically killed when a vending machine toppled, preventing the man from breathing.” It would be an understatement to say this was a plausible possibility.
Just as he was starting to mumble words at the age of seven, his father died, and no not by a vending machine. His dad died of an accidental self-inflicted wound. That’s when the whole family fled to the States. Ironically at this time his future permanently became intertwined with the wonderful Arnold Schwarzenegger forever.
The similarities are striking, especially in their speech patterns. I mean neither really had any speech patterns. It took a few more years until Guy could talk sufficient English to enter school. His first word was “guy,” except he pronounced it wrong and has continued to do so ever since.
I didn’t want Guy to start kindergarten as a ten year-old. Additionally he still shit his pants, which would be troublesome at a real elementary school, so I home-schooled him. Maybe it was a mistake trying to teach Guy myself, considering his inability to learn. For about fifteen years I taught him history, english, spelling, math, and science.
He eventually learned to converse, but not spell. Reading wasn’t his strong point, but he could listen. I read him most of his history lessons. That took up so much time, that he never really grasped geography, but that wouldn’t matter since his career days included watching the garbage men outside.
Throughout the many years, he learned to add, divide, multiply, and sometimes subtract. He never really mastered subtraction. It’s really tough being a mom and a teacher. Thank goodness, I had my husband’s insurance policy to afford not working.
By the time Guy was 25, he finally enrolled in college. Even though my brother worked at admissions for Georgetown, I never really thought college was a possibility for Guy. My brother and I, however, never considered the consequences of Guy attending classes with real professors.
So for four years, I wrote every paper for Guy. My brother helped out a little, even took a few of Guy’s tests. My brother owed me for keeping his girlfriend a secret from his wife. And I should also note that I was really proud of my boy, he was there when I wrote every paper for him. By then we were quite the team, starting from those days in our dimly lit kitchen.
Everything else is just a blur. Here’s a quick summary. The Terminator ran for president, but lost. This is when we were in our third-year of college. Arnold’s campaign was “I’ll be president,” said with an accent. It sucked and he lost, except then he claimed, “I’ll be back.” This was real endearing among the voters. They recalled their new president and voted again. Arnold won this time. After four years they reelected him, because this time his campaign slogan was, “I’m back.”
See, it’s all about campaign slogans. Turns out you don’t have to smart to be president, or even born in America. You still need to be at least 35 years old.
Coincidentally on Guy’s 35th birthday, he was walking down the street, trying to buy an Almond Joy. He loved them because they had nuts.
While looking for somewhere that sold the chocolate candies, he tripped and for no reason. I didn’t see it, but I’ve heard him tell this story to me about a hundred times. Also, tripping was something very common for Guy.
Well after he tripped, this gentleman Gunther or Slither, I don’t remember and Guy changes the name every time he tells the story. He’s not very good with names. Anyway this guy helps him up and was laughing, but they parted ways. Well of course, if you know Guy, he tripped again. And again Rambler or Blither picked him up off the ground and introduced himself as some politician or partier, as Guy describes.
So Guy introduced himself as, “I’m Canadian. I mean am Guy.” From there it’s in the history books. They were looking for a new candidate to replace the two-term movie star, and foreigners were real popular with the public. The issues didn’t matter. They kept him out of the spotlight. The campaign focused around his slogan, “The Right Guy for the Job.”
And as the brown-stained annals of history will explain, “Guy: 43rd president of the United States of America.” My son might have been the stupidest man in America, but at least he got a job. Unfortunately, he still can’t control his bowels when he watches the news. But, hey, few of us can.
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