Urkelian Slip: | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Urkelian Slip: | Previous Challenge Entry
By Phillip Cimei
02/02/17
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“Are you talking to me?” I asked, after I shook my head in astonishment and closed my mouth agape from fear, fear that my parenting skills, I thought I had, were heading down the toilet.

Phillip Jr., a tow-headed six-year-old no bigger than a squeaky mouse, waved his finger and flapped his tongue at me in a spontaneous moment of displeasure. He stood tall and fearless slinging stones of discontentment at his perceived Goliath. His lips moved faster than an auctioneer at a slow sale; his tongue sprayed spit with every “s” and every “th” through the gap his missing front teeth left. His words, though slurred and unintelligible, left no doubt that he wasn’t speaking in tongues edifying those in the room, but was resonating his displeasure about being instructed to go to bed. His finger drove home any doubt that he was not ready to retire for the evening. Waving it like the jawbone of an ass ready to slay thousands, he stood firm in his endeavor to slay the enemy.

My wife, the wonderful gift God had given me fourteen years’ prior, was not in the room at the time. If she had been we would now have six children instead of seven. Of course, I say this in jest. I just assumed this considering her sentiment about misbehaving and rebellious children.

She was like a lioness when she would take them to the store. Head held high she would lead them through the store never worried about them grabbing things, pushing carts into people like other children had done to her, or screaming at the top of their lungs as some children do when they see something they want and are told, “NO!” She would gentle remind them that this store had a bathroom and God would be in there guiding her hand of discipline. And I mean HAND.

I stood there, sweat now building on my brow, my eyes starting to bulge waiting for a response. My mind kept going back to what God said in his word about the tongue and how that little member can cause so much damage. I cringed at the thought of my children losing control of that little member. Then flashes of my own childhood Urkelian slips hit me between the eyes.

I recalled an incident that took place in the back seat of my dad’s Edsel when I was the same age as this little guy. We were on vacation. And as usual, being the youngest, I was assigned the backseat floor. It had a hump in the center; all those old cars had one. It became quite uncomfortable on those long journeys. My head vibrated like a slow drill on a bad tooth while resting on that hump, so I crawled up into the backseat.

My brother coined the phrase “sibling rivalry”. He knew that if he would do his famous, “I touched you last” routine I would create enough disturbance to irritate my mother and he would get his domain back.

It wasn’t easy distracting my mother. She was the classic back seat driver in the front seat. “Bill, you’re too close to that driver. There is a stop sign up ahead. Bill, better slow down. Bill…Bill…Bill,” she would rant the whole 1500-mile trip.

“Stop it!” I yelled, having succumbed to the last annoying touch from my brother.

“Okay, down in the floor. Now!” said mom.

Just as she turned to the front, I went temporarily insane and stuck out my tongue. Dad had at that moment turned back to see me commit the unpardonable sin. I will leave it to your imagination what followed. Good thing Social Services weren’t watching.

I was again back to my son’s situation and repeated my inquiry, “are you talking to me.” His face started to glow with, what I’m sure he thought was a revelation from God. The words were clear, confident, and life-saving.

“No, I’m talking to the wall,” he said with a sheepish smile while heading to the bedroom.

We all slip at one time or another.

Added clarification: Urkelian slip is my own twist on Freudian Slip. Steve Urkel, from the sitcom Family Matters was known for many catch phrases such as “did I do that?”

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