Ricky’s big Saturday night plans with Baby get short-circuited when Mama Rat expects him to babysit his terrible toddler nephew Marvin.

Podcast Script (not including ad-libs):

Y’know, I love Mama Rat, I really do, but sometimes I swear she’s looking to ruin my life, man.

So… Saturday afternoon I was just waking up around 3pm and she was already nagging me about what I’m doing with my life. And I told her I work full-time at the studio. And she knows that. And usually I’d be up and at work by 10am but Big Mike was outta town working in Chicago and Jeff was off on some meditation retreat, and we didn’t have any other clients til Monday, so me and the guys decided to yuck it up on Friday night.

(Well, OK, the yucking things up part was when I woke up at 3pm on Saturday, but you know what I mean.)

Anyway, I had a rare day off that I used to sleep off the hangover and I had big plans with Baby for Saturday night. So despite the yelling from Mama, when I was done with the whole yucking up thing, I had a shower and started spiking my hair anew.

And then there was a fearsome pounding and kicking and screeching at the bathroom door that could only mean one thing, and that one thing soon figured out how to rattle the doorknob just right so that the door came open and he came tumbling in after it, despite me having locked it.

“Unka Wikie! Unka Wikie!”

Ah crap… “Um… hey there, Marvin… how’s it goin’, lil’ man?”

Mama came up behind him. “It’s about time you got up!”

“Yeah, Mama, I worked late last night.”

“Worked, my ass!”

“Well, we didn’t finish printing the mix til 2am.”

“And then you were drinking til 8am!”

“Well, it was Friday night.”

“Hmph! I have to go to bingo. You have to watch Marvin tonight. And don’t you be drinking!”

“Me? I got a date with Baby!”

“Too bad. Take Marvin with you!”

And then Mama Rat grabbed her purse and stomped out. And I don’t think she was going to bingo wearing that short hoochie dress, but whatever. We all know she’s got a thing with Ambrose Ratlin ever since Papa Rat moved to Florida, and I, for one, think Ambrose is a cool dude. I mean, he’s kinda a square actually, but what do you expect from a dude who runs a dry cleaners and is obsessed with barbershop quartets and the local bowling league, but Ambrose is good to Mama and I dunno why she pretends like they’re just bingo buddies.

Whatever. Mama was going over to bang Ambrose and I was clearly not gonna get lucky tonight because I was saddled with Marvin… but it’s not like that was Marvin’s fault. That was Becky’s fault for making Saturday nights her girls night with Marvin’s sisters and Mama’s fault for not actually babysitting Marvin like she promised Becky she would whenever Becky’s man Jordan had to work on Saturdays.

So, I finished spiking my hair while Marvin sat on the bathroom floor kicking at the cabinet doors, but them things are pretty much indestructible, cause I didn’t manage to kick them apart when I was his age, neither. And then I got dressed and wrangled Marvin into my car and prayed to the Lord that Baby would think it was cute that I was bringing an uninvited chaperone on date night.

Well… turns out Marvin wasn’t the only uninvited guest, ‘cause Baby’s cousin Myles was there watching sports with Mr. Rattsen and his poker buddies when I came by to pick Baby up.

“Myles, why don’t you go with Baby and Ricky?”

“Huh?”

“You young folks should spend more time together.”

“Dude! I thought we were watching the game and drinking in celebration of my mom and Aunt Karen being out of town.”

“Go. Now.”

And Mr. Rattsen was so busy shoving Myles out the door behind me and Marvin and Baby that he even forgot about his usual “have her back by midnight or else” rifle-polishing routine.

So the 4 of us piled into my car and Marvin took to kicking the back of my seat and screeching for us to go to McRat Burger. And the night was already ruined before it began, so I drove us there and let Marvin get down to the important business of terrorizing other toddlers in the ball pit while we watched and ate our cheeseburgers.
“He sure has a lot of pent-up energy,” Baby said, as we watched Marvin clock some other kiddo.

“Well, Mama probably wouldn’t let him run it off outside today with all the rain and all that.”

“That’s awful. Me and my sisters always got sent outside to play.”

“Yeah, me and my cousins always were outside riding bikes and stuff.”

Myles piped up, “That your sister’s kid?”

“Yeah, dude.”

Then Baby asked, “How come she gave Marvin her maiden name, not her husband’s name?”

“Well, um… I mean, they weren’t married yet… um…”

“Yeah, but his older sisters are Ratkowskis, how come Marvin’s a Rateriff?”

“Look, Baby, Becky and Jordan were broken up at the time, and, um…”

“Marvin looks just like Wayne Rathko.”

I glared at Baby. I mean, it’s true, but if Becky ain’t saying so and didn’t give Marvin Wayne Rathko’s last name, it ain’t none of no one’s business and—

“Isn’t that the goofy weather dude on TV?”

“Yeah, Myles. Ricky’s sister is an assistant weather bimbo at that same TV station.”

I growled and glared at Baby. “It’s called ‘assistant meteorologist,’ Baby.”

“So what does she do, exactly? Pick out which stupid Hawaiian shirt he’s gonna wear?”

Fortunately, Myles must have sensed it was time to derail that conversation. “OK, but Becky and Jordan are married now, right? Why doesn’t he adopt Marvin?”

“Well, Jordan wants to, but… I dunno, man, that’s between him and Becky. They patched stuff up, it’s fine now.”

“Yeah, ‘cause Wayne Rathko couldn’t afford yet another round of alimony.”

“Damn it, Baby…”

“What? I’m just sayin,’ scuzzballs like Wayne Rathko never take responsibility for their actions.”

Myles continued trying to steer things in a more reasonable direction. “Now, Barbra… these things happen, the important thing is that Marvin has a loving home, even if his real dad is—”

Just then, Marvin came up, apparently needing a refill on his sugar supplies to fuel his next round of smacking littler toddlers. “Unka Wikie! Cookie! COOKIE!!!!”

And I was about to give him one from the stash I brought with me from Mama Rat’s cookie jar, but Baby smacked my hand. “Ricky! Too much sugar is bad for kids!”

Well, Marvin didn’t like that and straight up bit Baby on the arm in retaliation. She then picked him up and took him to the corner of McRat’s and tried to give him a time out while he kicked and screamed demanding a cookie and the whole restaurant watched.

Then when she realized this wasn’t going to work to make Marvin behave, Baby smacked his little butt. And the whole restaurant clapped.

Except for me and Myles. I knew there was gonna be Hell to pay when Mama Rat found out about this so I figured it was time for us to be leaving and I picked up a screeching Marvin and headed out to car with Baby and Myles following behind.

“It’s OK, lil’ dude, you’re tired and just needing a nap or whatever.”

“It is not OK for him to bite me!”

“Shh… quiet, Baby. You don’t understand our family dynamics; it’s my job to be the cool uncle.”

“But he bit me!”

At least Myles was on my side, saying, “And you had it coming for getting in between a man and his cookies.”

Well, that started a whole bunch of yelling from Baby, cause even though Myles can say stuff like that to Baby, she still don’t wanna hear it.

And I figured it was a good time to appeal to a higher authority, so I drove the screaming lot of us over to Gamma Rat’s house, who was only mildly annoyed at being interrupted in the midst of watching old Grateful Dead concerts on RatTube.

So I explained the whole mess to her as Marvin snuggled up in her lap and she nodded and carried him into the kitchen to give him a cookie (from the regular cookie jar), then sat him down in front of the TV with a blanket and a bowl of cereal while she grabbed Baby by the scruff of her neck and took her to the porch to school her in “don’t you ever mess with my great-grandbabies again or I’ll whup your little bitch ass.”

Meanwhile, me and Myles sat on the sofa, all bedecked in its itchy crocheted cushion covers.

“Baby’s gonna dump me.”

“Naw, Ricky. You did the right thing. She was way outta line disciplining someone else’s kid.”

“Maybe I was a bit harsh.”

“Naw, I’m telling you: Chicks dig it when a man sets hard boundaries. They respect strong men.”

Well, I mean, Myles seems to know a thing or two about getting chicks, but still…

“Listen, Ricky: some day you and Baby are gonna have little monsters of your own running around. You think she’s gonna be cool with it if some other broad smacks one of her kids in McRat’s?”

“Well, no…”

“Exactly. And she was outta line disrespecting your sister, too.”

“Well, yeah…”

“You just wait. You’ll see. She’s gonna respect you more from now on.” Myles grinned and elbowed me with a wink, adding, “And you know what happens when chicks respect you more.”

And that was when Baby and Gamma Rat came back in and it’s true that Baby didn’t say a damned thing about Marvin’s behaviour after that, but I think that was just cause she’d learned the fear of God, or at least the fear of Gamma Rat.

And as for Myles’ other prediction, well… I dunno, man. Certainly that night the only one who got “what happens when chicks respect you more” was Ambrose Ratlin.

Links

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