Anyone with children (or who watches small children) can relate to this story! Anyone reading and thinking about having children…I strongly suggest making notes in the margins! LOL! Enjoy: D
Uncle Ryan's Shadow(One shot)
Walking towards the front door, I wipe my hands on a rag. I'm filthy from working on the house. I really should have stopped sooner and taken a shower, I knew they were coming. I don't get to see Seth that often any more. He's busy with Summer and Tyler and I'm always working…even when I'm home I'm working.
By now the doorbell is ringing non-stop. Clearly Seth has brought Tyler with him today. Opening the front door verifies my suspicions.
"Uncle Ryan!" the tike yells, pronouncing my name as 'Unco Wyan'. Tripping over the threshold, he wraps his arms around my thigh and squeezes with all his might as a puff of dust rises off my jeans from the drywall I was working on before they arrived.
"Hey little man! Easy buddy, Uncle Ryan's clothes are dirty from working," I warn, noticing Summer has dressed him in designer blue jeans and a little red polo shirt to match his Daddy. The drywall dust will send her into a tailspin if she finds it streaking his outfit when he returns home.
"I see you're spit-shined and ready for company," Seth teases. He knows I wouldn't waste time just sitting, waiting for them to show up.
"Come on in. I'll clean up real quick." Prying little Tyler off my leg, I step aside so they can come in. For whatever reason, Tyler is just crazy about me and clings to me every time he comes to visit. I admit, he's cute and he's entertaining, but I don't know the first thing about kids and half the time I don't know what to do with him.
"Ryan man, the house looks great! You're really been working your ass off," Seth admires, his head on a swivel.
"Yeah it's coming along," I agree modestly. I can build almost anything and Seth is dangerous with any sort of tool in his hands, there's no need to brag on anything. "I'll be right back. Keep an eye on Tyler, I've got tools out in the kitchen."
"Okay."
Quickly slipping away before Tyler has a chance to follow me, I head to the master bedroom and lock the door behind me. Stripping out of my work clothes I frown at the dusty mess I've left on the carpet. If I didn't have company, I probably would have stripped down in the kitchen and left the dirty clothes in the messed up room. Oh well, it's just dust. Entering the master bathroom, I shut the door and lock it as well. Tyler's proven to have a bit of Chino in him and sometimes one lock isn't enough. Then again, maybe he's just a talented three year old. Either way, he doesn't need to see my package any time soon, so I'm not taking any chances.
I let the hot shower water run over me. Dipping my head I relax a bit as the water pelts the back of my head and shoulders. Sadly I don't have time to enjoy it, I have company waiting. Feeling rejuvenated, I step out into the bedroom in only a towel and start fishing around for a new set of clean clothes to put on. Frustrated with the towel, since it seems to have no intention of staying on my hips, I discard it on the floor and walk around the room, baring all, in search of my clothes.
"Are you done yet Uncle Ryan?"
My attention is drawn to the floor under my bedroom door where Tyler's fingers have found their way in.
"I'll be out in a minute Tyler. Go sit with Daddy." I'm encouraged when I hear his voice trailing away from the door, off on his mission to relay my message to Seth no doubt.
Three minutes later, I emerge dressed even though my hair is still wet, and I find Seth and Tyler contently talking to each other in the living room…Tyler still stuck on talking about me.
"Why does Uncle Ryan build things?"
"Because he's good at it," Seth responds.
"But why?"
"Because he likes doing it," Seth tries again. I can't help but smile at this point.
"But why does he like it?"
Trying to save Seth from this pointless conversation, I interrupt. "Because people pay Uncle Ryan a lot of money to build things."
Seth's eyebrows furl at me, reminding me at a three year old doesn't understand money. I furl my eyes back and he seems to get my hinting toward who the kid's Mother is…he definitely understands money.
"And money's good right Uncle Ryan?"
"Money's great."
"Ryan man, are you hungry? Tyler and I didn't eat anything for lunch yet."
"Yeah I could go for something. What did you have in mind?"
"Well, how about that little Mexican place across town? You buy, I'll fly?"
"That main road over there is under construction, it's gonna take you a while to get over there. You sure?"
"Yeah it's okay. I love the food from there. Write down what you want and I'll go get it."
"I'm going to stay here with Uncle Ryan," Tyler interjected, jumping up and down rambunctiously on my couch.
I suddenly realize sending his Daddy way across town in certain gridlock was a very, very bad idea.
"Sure you can stay with Uncle Ryan, I'll be right back," Seth acknowledged, grabbing the cash out of my hand.
"Seth, hold on." I catch him close to the front door, but out of Tyler's sight. "Are you sure about this? I mean, I don't have kids and other than Tyler I've never even been around kids. I don't know…what do I do with him?"
Seth looks on me sympathetically. "Ryan it'll be fine. Really. He's a good boy, he's just…he's a three year old."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, hoping my flat tone is masking my paranoia just below the surface.
"Nothing," he answers. At this point I know he's lying about the simplicity of entertaining a three year old, even if it's only for a short stretch of time.
"He's crazy about you Ryan, just talk with him."
There's silence as we both mentally acknowledge that communicating is not my strong suit.
"Alright fine, give him a block of wood and screwdriver, or a little pin hammer. Pretend your teaching him how to build something. That's right up your alley and he'd love that. Just don't let anything happen to his clothes, Summer will have my head."
"Seth, I really don't think…"
"I promise, I'll fly. I'll be back in a flash. If I tell him no now, you're gonna break his little heart…"
"Uncle Ryan, where are you?"
The damp hair on the back of my neck sticks straight out as I watch Seth slip through my front door. I glare through the glass as he jumps in his car and races up the street. I know I've got at least forty-five minutes to entertain the mini Cohen until Seth returns.
Taking a deep breath, I return to the living room where Tyler is still jumping on the couch. "Okay buddy, that's enough. If you break your neck, your Mom will break my neck. Let's do something else."
Bouncing down onto his butt, he slides off the couch and walks over to me. Wiggling his way between my legs, folds his arms across his chest, imitating the way I'm sitting.
"Uncle Ryan, why does Mommy call you Chino?"
"Because that's where I used to live," I answer honestly.
"You used to live in Chino? Ew."
It frightens me, the manner in which children pick up their parents qualities. At three years old, Tyler has 'Ew' down to a science and is using it like a professional. His Mother would be proud of him.
"Uncle Ryan, you didn't do a good job on your bath."
"I didn't?" I'm a little more curiosity than I should be about his comment and I find myself questioning my ability to bathe myself.
"Nope," he says innocently. "You didn't dry off before you got dressed because your shirt is all wet and stuck to you…and your hair is wet too."
I hate to admit it but he's right. Once I dropped my towel on the bedroom floor, I threw my clothes on and that was that.
"I could dry your hair for you," he offers.
"That's okay, it'll dry by itself," I explain, shunning visions of him burning my scalp from holding the dryer in one place for too long.
"Uncle Ryan, can I have a drink?"
"A drink? Yeah sure."
He moves out of my way so I can stand up and then follows me, like a shadow, to the kitchen. This is when I realize this was bad idea number two. I'm working in the kitchen right now and there are tools galore laying everywhere and I close my eyes at my own stupidity for leading this kid into the one room in my house where he's destined to get dirty.
"Wow! Uncle Ryan are these all your tools?" he asks in astonishment.
"Yeah, but don't touch buddy, they're not for little guys."
Ignoring my warning, he squats down next to my jigsaw and points at the teeth on the blade. "Uncle Ryan, this one has prickles on it."
Unsure whether or not the saw is still plugged in, I snatch him off the floor, his legs still in squatting position, and I relocate him over to the refrigerator. Opening the door, I realize I'm facing my next problem. The bottom shelf is full of beer and I have a handful of water bottles in the door, I'm out of orange juice and my milk is out of date. I hear a little sigh at my side and look down to see Tyler searching the fridge with his hands on his hips.
"You don't have any juice boxes? That's so not cool Uncle Ryan."
For some reason I find myself embarrassed by the fact that I'm not cool at the moment. I'm Uncle Ryan. I'm always cool.
"How about a bottle of water?" I suggest, trying to make it sound more hip than it really is. "I'll let you drink it out of the bottle like the big boys do."
"Okay," he answers, content with that idea.
Closing the fridge door, I unscrew the cap and hand him the bottle. I'm more concerned about him spilling the bottle all over himself than anything else so I keep a close eye on him.
Wrapping both of his little mitts around the bottle, he sips on it, looking up at me the whole time. I realize it's been quite a while since he came up for air and gently encourage him to take a breather.
"Tyler man, save some for when Daddy brings back your lunch." Looking at my watch I'm perturbed to see Tyler and I have been alone for exactly seven minutes.
Lowering the bottle from his mouth, "There's lots in this bottle. I'm very much thirsty," he explains, raising the bottle to his mouth again.
Oddly, the back of brain tells me to stop him from drinking too much…what if he pukes? Puking would mean a ruined outfit then we'd both be in trouble. Before I have a chance to stop him, he lowers the bottle himself and attempts to screw the cap back on. For a little guy, he still managed to pack away about a third of the bottle.
"Can I see those?" he asks, swiftly changing lanes, apparently we're done with drinking. Walking over to some screwdrivers laying on the floor, I allow him to pick one up and pretend to work with it. It seems the perfect time for me to get a drink. Sneaking into the fridge, I pull out a bottle of beer and pop the cap on the old counter top. What do I care? I'm replacing it anyway. Raising my own bottle to my mouth, I down half of it in just a couple of swigs. I'm hoping it kicks in on my empty stomach and relaxes me a bit. At this rate I'll spontaneously combust before Seth gets back.
"Uncle Ryan look, I fixed it."
Lowering my vision to the floor, my heart stops. Tyler is innocently playing with some spare scraps of drywall and pretending to screw them together. That's not the problem. The problem is the fact that he's kneeling on the floor and his little designer jeans from the knees down are completely chalk white from the drywall dust, as is the ass of his jeans because he's sitting on the bottom of his gym shoes.
"Oh Tyler," I moan hesitantly. "Time out buddy."
Once again I grab him under the arms and stand him up and take two swats at the leg of his jeans with my hand as he watches me. The motion only causes the dust to fly and smear on his jeans even more.
"Mommy told me not to get these dirty," Tyler worried, his little chin trembling on the verge of a meltdown.
"Mommy should know better that to send you to my house with good clothes on," I complain through clenched teeth.
Tyler only looks up at me with quickly reddening eyes, his little bottom lip jutting out as he tries to stifle the cry building up inside of him. I'm barely capable of handling him when he's happy, I definitely don't want this to turn into something traumatic…for either of us.
"Hang on Tyler, Uncle Ryan will fix it," I say, with more confidence than I actually have. Patting the dust off only seemed to make it worse. I don't have time to wash the jeans before Seth returns and trying to wipe the dust off with a wet washcloth would be suicide. Mixing water with that amount of drywall dust, may as well concrete his jeans to his little legs. Still praying for a miracle, I see a possibility in the corner of the kitchen and my eyes dart back and forth between Tyler and my shop vac. I think Seth and Summer would be horrified if they knew I sucked their kid off with a shop vac, but right now Tyler and I had the same goal in mind…get the jeans clean. The shop vac was the only 'reasonable' solution at this moment.
"I have an idea Tyler, follow me." Sure enough he's hot on my tail hoping Uncle Ryan will save the day.
I plug the vac into the wall and change the nozzle to something a little more kid friendly, well, as kid friendly as you can make a shop vac. I turn around to face Tyler, his eyes are as wide as saucers.
""You're going to suck me with the vacuum?" he squeaks, horrified that this is my best solution.
"Not you buddy, just the dust. I'll do one little part, if you don't like it, I'll stop okay?" I hold my breath hoping he'll trust me long enough to get through this.
"Okay Uncle Ryan," he sniffles while looking down at his powdered jeans. I can't help but feel like an ass knowing I'm about to vacuum this kid.
"Okay let's try just a small part at the bottom down here and we'll see what you think."
I turn on the vac and it echoes in the naked room causing Tyler to jump. I hold my breath again as I lower the nozzle to his ankle. My heart about explodes when the nozzles immediately sucks up his shoelaces and the bottom of his jeans. But, to my surprise, Tyler thinks this is hysterical and busts out into laughter as I yank the hose away from him.
"Do it again Uncle Ryan!" he yells over the roar of the vac. He's smiling…and enjoying this a little too much. He's definitely Seth's kid.
I do my best to make a game out of sucking off his jeans with the nozzle. Up one leg and down the other, careful not to forget his backside also needs some clean up. When I finally shut off the shop vac, I give Tyler a once over and raise my eyebrows at our achievement.
"What do you think Tyler? How does it look?"
"That looks great Uncle Ryan! Do you clean all of your clothes with that?"
Ignoring his question, "You look pretty good to me kid. What do you say we get out of here before we get dirty again?"
He nods at me and takes my hand to lead me out of the room. We pause in the doorway, long enough for him to run back and grab his bottle of water off the counter. I look longingly at my beer bottle, but it's no use. Tyler is back, water in hand, and we're leaving the kitchen.
Back in the living room he takes great pleasure relentlessly in running around my coffee table. I feel a headache brewing just from watching him.
"Tyler…Tyler! That's enough. How about we put the TV on?"
"Okay," he agrees, making a beeline for the couch. Climbing up, he sits on the edge, constantly kicking the side of the couch. I let it go, it's harmless, it's certainly better than running around the coffee table.
"Alright, let's see what's on." I have no idea what kids like to watch or even what channel to find it on. I decide to ask Tyler for help. "What do you want to watch?"
"Put on Dragon Tales Uncle Ryan, it's my favorite," he explains as he starts bouncing on the couch again.
"Dragon Tales…right." I heard my voice, it implied I know what Dragon Tales is…too bad my brain doesn't have a clue. Searching the index, I locate the show and flip to the channel.
"That's it! That's it Uncle Ryan!"
Happy that I've done something right in the last twenty minutes, I toss the remote on the table. Seeing that Tyler is content at the moment, I hurry back to the kitchen to get my beer…I could really use it right now.
When I return to the living room, there's Tyler with the remote in his hand. "Uncle Ryan, what show is this?"
With my beer bottle still at my lips, I glance at the TV screen and immediately backwash my beer into the bottle, choking in the process. The tiny terror managed to flip on the Spice Channel and the screen was showing lovely close ups of…of…well, things no three year old should be looking at.
"Tyler what are you doing?"
"I wanted to make it louder. Do they love each other Uncle Ryan?"
"Looks like it," I admit dryly, tripping over my own couch and grabbing the remote from his hand.
"Why are they smacking into each other like that?"
Fumbling with the remote, I'm dizzy with panic and I spit out the first thing that comes to mind, "Maybe they're playing some sort of game."
Hitting the recall button, Dragon Tales springs back to life on the screen. Thankfully, Tyler's romp into the world of porn seems to be forgotten as he's already singing along with the cartoon characters. Beaten, I sit down on the couch with sweat forming on my temples. I don't need lunch anymore, this last little incident actually left me nauseous. At this stage, I just want his Daddy to come back as soon as possible. Glancing down at my watch I see I still have a good fifteen minutes on my own…and that's if Seth didn't run into any problems.
"Uncle Ryan?"
Tyler's voice grabs my attention instantly because it's soft and controlled, nothing like what I've been hearing since his Daddy left. Raising my head off the couch I look at him. "What's the matter?"
He's looking at me, intently. "I have to go potty," he announces, grabbing the fly of his little designer jeans.
Of course, I should have seen this coming. He's inhaled a half a bottle of water in the last ten minutes, makes perfect sense. Visions of the next possible disaster flash through my mind like lightning. Wait a minute, what the hell am I so worried about? He's a boy, I'm a boy, we've got the same plumbing and Christ I've had a good twenty years of practice. I know what I'm doing. It's a pretty simple 'point and shoot' procedure…we got this.
Sighing, "Alright buddy, come on."
Still squeezing the front of his jeans, my little shadow follows me to the bathroom. I flick the light on and step in to put the seat up for him. I notice him struggling with his belt.
"Need some help?" I offer.
"No, I could do this," he states finally freeing the buckle.
"You know how to do this?" I ask. Luckily a three year old doesn't know how to read the pleading tone in my voice.
"I'm a big boy Uncle Ryan. I do this all of the times at my house. I'll show you."
"Okay, great." I feel slightly relieved, but this isn't over with yet.
Pushing his pants down to his knees, Tyler waddles over to the toilet. "Where is it?"
"Where's what?" I answer. I knew this was going along entirely too smoothly.
"The bench."
"What bench?" Now I'm thoroughly confused and he sighs at me in disgust.
"The bench for me to stand on!"
His tone supports the idea that I should know better, but I don't. "What do you need a bench for?"
"Look!" his little frustrated voice squeaks at me again as he steps up to the toilet and lifts his shirt, clearly demonstrating that his little plumbing parts are lower than the rim of the toilet.
"Oh." Being a big guy, a problem of this nature never even crossed my mind.
"Hurry Uncle Ryan."
His voice is begging for an immediate solution but I've got nothing, well nothing immediately handy, for him to use. None of the boards in the kitchen are small enough to bring into the bathroom and even I know he can't wait long enough for me to cut one of them. I don't have a kitchen set yet so there're no kitchen chairs he could kneel on. Christ, I don't even have a freaking phone book to give him those extra couple of inches! Once again, I resort to the next best thing that comes to mind and I stand near the toilet as if I'm going to use it. "Come here Tyler. Stand on Uncle Ryan's boots."
Trusting me, he steps up and I wrap my arm around his shoulders so he knows I won't let him fall in.
"Look it works! I'm taller!"
He doesn't wait for further instructions. We've solved this issue in the nick of time and he releases his stream into the toilet. I take notice of the amount of time it's taking for him to empty his bladder and make a mental note to myself that handing him his own bottle of water might not be a good idea in the future.
"I'm all done Uncle Ryan."
"You sure?" I know it's a dumb question. I saw what came out of him and I can't imagine anything being left in there.
"Yep. I'm all done."
"Good boy Tyler. You did great." I shock myself with the encouraging words leaving my mouth.
"I told you I'm a big boy!" He smiles at me, proud of himself.
Thirty seconds later we're back in the living room. I flop down on the couch on my back. Tyler is chattering something about Scooby Doo. I close my eyes for a minute. It's short lived when I realize he's climbed onto my legs and is crawling up my body. I quickly grab him under the armpits and pull him up onto my chest with the sole intention of protecting my manhood from his knees and his Tommy Hilfiger gym shoes. Been there done that. He settles down on my chest with his legs straddling my waist. Quieting down, he snuggles against me. I put one hand on his back and tousle his hair with the other one.
"Uncle Ryan, will you teach me to build things when I grown up?"
"Sure. We can build lots of things."
"I love you Uncle Ryan."
"I love you too Tyler."
I hear a yawn escape from him and it doesn't take long before his breaths are deep and timed. I can't help smiling. Suddenly Seth's comment makes perfect sense. He really is a good boy…I'm the basket case. He didn't do anything wrong, I'm just clueless. It's pathetic, but I could use a nap too. Forty-five minutes with Tyler felt like a full days work. I close my eyes again…just in time to hear the front door open.
"Poco taco everybody! Time to eat!" Seth yells through the house.
I can hear the rustle of the take-out bags as he enters the living room. I open my eyes when I hear him set them down on the coffee table.
"Oh sure, now you come back." I glare at him, with a smirk.
"What? Looks like things went great while I was gone."
"Great? Great is not the right word."
"So, now do you understand what I meant by the whole three year old thing?"
"Yes." I nod painfully slow. "I want to eat…and I really, really need a beer."
"I'm on it," Seth offers, heading to the kitchen. I know secretly he's amazed Tyler and I are both still intact. "Just throw him on your bed. We can eat lunch in peace."
Nodding, I pull Tyler's limp little body up higher on my chest and wrap my arm around him, hugging him close so I don't drop him when I stand up. The minute my body is off the couch and completely erect his eyes open and he looks at me. Shit. I woke him up.
"Wanna go sleep on Uncle Ryan's bed?" I whisper to him.
"I want to eat tacos with you. I'm hungry," he says, the aroma of Mexican food drawing his attention down to the table.
"Okay." I know he's hungry, Seth mentioned neither of them had lunch yet. I sit back down on the couch still holding him. I pull a taco from the bag and unwrap it. Tyler slides off my lap to kneel next to the table to eat his taco.
"Hey Tyler, buddy! Daddy missed you! Did you have fun with Uncle Ryan?"
"It was the best time!" Tyler bragged.
"Cool. What did you guys do?"
"Uncle Ryan gave me my own bottle of water and he vacuumed my jeans and we saw people kissing and I did potty on his boots."
Seth stopped chewing and looked to me for validation. Forcing my mouthful of food down, "That last one isn't the way it sounds. I don't have a bench so I let him stand on my boots so he could…reach…the toilet."
"Ryan that's ingenious. Wish you would've told me that a week ago. I could have used that information back then. Did you seriously vacuum him?"
"Yeah, I got dirty," Tyler interrupted with a mouthful of taco.
"Yeah I used the shop vac on him." I admitted, snickering at the ridiculousness of the moment. "We went into the kitchen for some drinks and he sat down on the floor to look at some of my tools," I admitted.
"Drywall dust?" Seth assumed.
"He was coated in it. I didn't know what else to do with him."
Tipping his head, Seth nodded. "Good idea. He's clean, I would have never known, more importantly, his Mother will never know. And the people kissing?"
"We saw people playing games on TV. They love each other."
The cryptic comment was enough to get Seth staring at me again.
"I'm not really sure what happened. We started out with Dragon Tales and I went into the kitchen to get my beer and when I came back, he had the Spice Channel on."
"You get the Spice Channel Ry?"
"He does," Tyler interrupted. "The people were playing this game where they bump into each other."
I was getting warm and it wasn't from the hot sauce.
"You mean…he…saw…"
"Oh yeah. Spice Channel's got some good camera angles."
"Good…Lord."
"I know. I about passed out. I got rid of that as fast as possible."
"No wonder you were laying on the couch when I got back."
"I'm full." Tyler yawned again, leaning against me.
I look to Seth for his cue.
"He'll sleep if you put him on your bed. Tyler, want to take a nap on Uncle Ryan's bed?"
The sleepy bundle nods and crawls back into my arms. Picking him up, I walk into my bedroom and lay him out on my bed.
"Can I come to your house again Uncle Ryan?"
He's on the brink of going under but he obviously had fun with me.
"Sure thing buddy." I bend down and kiss his forehead. A smile flickers across his lips using the last ounce of his energy as his arm slides off his tummy. He's gone.
I turn to leave my bedroom only to find Seth standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips and this shit-eating grin on his face. I shove him out into the hallway. "Don't say it," I warn him.
"What?"
"You know what."
"Ryan, under that lion-like exterior of yours lies a pussycat."
"I told you not to say that."
"You're gonna make a great Dad someday. You might feel awkward with him but kids don't lie about stuff like that. He's crazy about you. He wouldn't stick to you like a shadow if you weren't a good role model. Seriously. Give yourself some credit."
Sheepishly I look down at my lunch. "Yeah. Maybe. He really is a great kid. In the meantime, don't leave us alone that long next time. Thirty minutes max."
"So I guess that means I'm buying lunch next time."
"Better believe it!"
A/N – This one is a little futuristic stretch on my imagination. This is my first leap into writing a fanfic in first person…I hope I did the view justice. Personally I feel 'Ryan' would make a great father and/or Uncle. (Tough as Teflon on the outside, but sweet as a cookie on the inside!)! But I do love when he's out of his element and uncomfortable. Seemed the perfect backdrop for this story. And, for the record…I have never vacuumed my child, but I have vacuumed my German Shepard on several occasions (once was drywall related, another was powdered-sugar related!)! Although…my husband vacuumed my daughter at 1-year-old…baby powdered related incident. (I left them home alone – enough said). I don't have access to any porn related cable channels, but my (at the time) 4 year old did walk into the room during a regular movie but at a rather "choice" scene. It's amazing how you forget how the remote works during these times! And lastly, yes, while babysitting a friend's not yet 3 year old son…I had to let him stand on my shoes in order for his little 'fontenelle' (my nickname for it) to be tall enough to pee in the proper place. (There was no time to consider other options!)! LOL! Man…the things Moms do to get the job done! Proud to be a Mom:D