thoughts on becoming a man

Part of being a man is knowing yourself and your limits. Knowing what you are capable of and when to say 'when' is an important part of being a man.
This summer Calvin made an important first step on that long journey.
My friend Cindy was trying to buy a new car and I volunteered to go with her and help negotiate.
But, before I talk about Calvins' realization....
An aside.
Cindy's daughter Devany? This kid is a force of nature.
Charming, funny, smart...and cute? Holy cow. I haven't seen a kid this cute since Calvin.
(For the reals, in case you weren't lucky enough to see it yourself, Calvin was one of the cutest kids in the history of cute kids. Big blue eyes, chubby cheeks, perpetual smile...everybody loved that kid)
Oh and?
She has the devil in her.
I can say this because it's the same brand of devil I had in me as a child.
We were at dinner and the manager came over to see how things were and she said to him "You're a bad man!"
apropos of? ...
Nothing. First time she lays eyes on the guy "you're a bad man"
What I wanted to say is "sorry... but...she has the ability to see into mens souls"
What I actually said was someting along the lines of " hey, you not a bad man, I'm sure you're fine...she's a toddler?...I like my fajitas!"
But the best line of the day from this little firecracker?
She has a dog. A stuffed animal named Blackie that looks like a Black Lab. He is her best friend, her babie, her nemisis. ( she alternated between coddling, chastising and dragging him around all day)
So...a salesman walks up to us and starts trying to build some rapport...
He gets my name, shakes my hand, does the same with Cindy, says 'what's up little man?!' to Cal and then gets to Devany...
"Hey there, what's your dogs name?"
She looks him up and down like he walked up in 'da club and asked her to dance or some shit...
and then says "Blackie"
Oh...did I mention the salesman is african american?
Yeah.
So he does a little stutter step and I say something like "She named the dog!" and we all pretend it never happened.
So, on to Calvin's quest for manhood.
It was a long day with not many quality opportunities for nurishment.
He had some hot Cheetos before we left the house.
Then we fucked around at the dealerships. He ate some regular Cheetos at Carmax.
Then we went to ...On The Border? I don't know at this point.
Cal chose a taco that in all honesty was made for the boy.
Buffalo Chicken Taco.
Sure it has all kinds of jalapeno ranch sauce and lettuce and tomatos and shit to take away some of the sting but Calvin ain't havin' that. He wants just the buffalo chicken, cheese and jalapenos.
So he eats his stuff, Devany tells the manager he's a bad man, we go home and Devany and I watch ancient episodes of Pink Panther cartoons on Hulu and Calvin eats the rest of the hot Cheetos........
and then vomits.
I rub his back and tell him he's a super kid...
and he technicolor vomits.
And then he vomits some more and talks about "the burn"

He is now a man who knows his culinary limits.
Step one.
Hot Cheetos, Cheetos, Jalapeno, buffalo wing taco.
Fine.
Add more hot Cheetos?
Not so much...
So now he knows...