Adorable Little Gargoyles

Leave it to kids to disgorge the darnedest things.

I was dining out with my cousin, my sister, her husband and their three hyperactive, smartly-inquisitive kids when, out of the blue, my irrepressible nine-year old nephew turned to me and blurts out:

“Tito, is it true that if you put your tongue inside a girl’s vagina you’re going to hell?”

At least five tables surrounding us instantly halted into silence. Ill at ease, glacial silence. Iced tea shot out of my cousin’s nose and my succulent steak remained suspended millimeters away from my teeth.

My sister, mortified, discharged a panicked yet amused glance towards my brother in law who is just about to burst into hysterical laughter. Flushed with embarrassment, she began looking around with an apologetic “I Swear This Is Not Regular Dinner Conversation At Home” appeal at sympathy from random diners.

I chuckled like a deranged tarsier. The demented dork in me is severely tempted to have said “You’ll surely know the concept of hell if you don’t lance her clit with your tongue!”

Apparently my nephew overheard older boys at his school’s playground who were debating the varied permutations of sex and religious guilt.

“Well,” I answered back, winking at my sister, “You have to grow up fast to know and understand. You can start growing up fast by finishing your dinner.”

Amazing how kids make adults cringe.

I remember a riotous moment involving Mahal (yes our ubiquitous noontime show midget) who was constantly visiting her agent who used to live in our building a couple of years ago. Then there’s this prima donna, übersnooty Povedan little missy who also used to live in the same floor as I do. One time this little diva (my kid neighbor not Mahal) entered the lift with her parents. It was crowded. People were barely inhaling. Then the lift stopped on another floor and in scurries Mahal. The little diva neighbor stared at the midget wonder and when Mahal stepped out of the elevator immediately blurted in her crisp Catholic Schoolgirl Accent:

“Mummy, I’m SCARED of Ma-hall!”

Bwahahaha!

The whole lift burst into roars of uncontained mirth.

I turned to the kid (who has this habit of chatting me up in hallway, demanding to know what’s inside my laptop bag, where I’m going etc.) and asked: “Why are you scared of Mahal? You’re so much bigger than she is.”

“She’s, um, SCAary!”

There’s another incident in a wedding where a curious kid asked the mom: “Mommy why is the bride wearing white?”

“Because,” the mom answered “today is the happiest day of her life, honey.”

“Then,” the kid persisted, “Why is the groom wearing black?”

The mom glared at her.

I was tempted to pipe in “He’s mourning because his wife is a gold-digging slut who will forbid him from hanging out with his buddies over beer and bonking cheap hookers!”

But the classic, riotous kid blurt out happened while I was watching Spiderman1 at Megamall. It was the confrontation scene between the original Green Goblin and Spidey. The atmosphere's terse, thoroughly hushed silence, people gaping with bated breath. Then in the complete darkness a cute little kiddie voice squeaked:

“Huwag mo nang kausapin…patayin mo naaaaa!”

Bwahahahahahahahahahaha! What an inspired moment!

We forgot green goblin and erupt into a chorus of communal laughter.

Kids! I love kids! Especially kids like that!

Heaven would likely forbid I get one.