April 1st, 2015
I opened the colorful, Frozen movie-themed gift bag to find candy and a toy water gun. I sat back in my chair and stared at the water gun. It was a hard plastic, see-through, orange casing. The trigger was black, and a bright green drain plug was on the side where I could add water. There was no way on earth to mistake it for a real gun, but I still paused and thought, “Do I want my son to have this water gun?”
My son, who didn’t hesitate, placed a finger on the side of the bag, ripping open the paper bag. The candy and play water gun spilled like a torn open piñata. He happily bent over and picked up a Blow-pop, lollipop, and the water gun. He properly grabbed the toy water gun handle and pointed the muzzle towards the ground. As if he was going to shoot water on the candy. I thought to myself, “I’m a cop, and I never showed him how to hold a real gun. After all, he is 5!”
The kids’ party was very active. Parents sat around in small groups of people they felt most comfortable sitting with. The kids were running around without a care in the world. The music was moving our asses in the place of our seats. Most of us unwittingly knew we were swaying to the music. And my son asked me, “Dad, how does this water gun work?”
I pondered his question and wondered aloud if I would allow him to play with the toy water gun. This toy water gun, smaller than a .22 caliber, would be safe to play with. After all, it’s only spraying water.
“Alright, Christopher. You pull out this plug. Then, take a little water from this water bottle and pour it inside the open hole. Replace the plug. Pull the trigger a few times to suction the water flow, and wallah, there you go, a water gun.”
The water shot out from the toy gun. It was a long stream of water that shot over his head and crashed into the back of a woman who had a bikini top on. “Ahhhh,” she shrieked.
I cringed and smiled, “I’m so sorry we weren’t prepared. Look on the bright side. You’re wearing a bathing suit.”
The birthday goer was unhappy, and she stomped off into another area, where she sat down without saying a word.
“This is going to be interesting, Christopher,” I said.
Christopher ran off. While the whole time running, he squeezed the trigger over and over, indiscriminately shooting water at people who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Ahh,” “Ohhh,” “Uggg,” was heard through the blaring music while my son ran off into the distance.
“I wonder if I should get up and get him,” I told the person beside me.
“When the water is out. He’s done,” she said.
As quickly as he ran away, I could hear the moans and cries of people slowly creep back in my direction. The water was cold, and the day was hot. Ice-cold water on the skin can wake up anyone.
“I’ll get him and stop the water madness,” I said.
I got off my bench, walked around the tables, and made a beeline move towards him. Christopher saw my advances, made a hard left, and charged towards the DJ. The DJ spun his tunes and screamed into the mic, “No, no.”
My son was not sympathetic. He sprayed water all over his face. The residue landed on his DJ stand.
“Sorry about that,” I said as I ran by.
“Christopher, that is enough,” I shouted, advancing towards him.
Christopher quickly dropped to his knees and crawled under a table. The table blocked my path. There was no way to go under it, and there was no way I could go over it without disrupting the people sitting there.
Christopher stopped and turned to me as he made it through the other side.
“Easy, son,” I said. I placed my hands in front of me, “There is no need to get me wet, nor these people sitting here. Just stay where you are.”
I slowly moved around the table and calmly walked to my son. Christopher never took his eyes off of me. The water gun was at his side.
“Okay, no more water,” I said.
I extended my hand to him. He reluctantly handed me the water gun and walked away.
I walked back to my seat and sat down. I didn’t look at some people, but I knew they were angrily looking at me. I began to talk to someone when my back was drenched in water.
“Dad, water bottles make great squirt guns, too,” Nico, my other son, said.
Yup, water bottles make great squirt guns, too.
808 words.
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