In our house, we have so many obscure quotes that we laugh at uproariously, that sometimes, a subtle one slips past, forgotten — for awhile — but when it resurfaces and we latch on? Forget about it. We can, and will, go the distance. One such quote, which we find endlessly amusing, is “You little punk!” Pull up a chair.
Details of the story are unclear, because we never actually heard the original line delivered, and we are relying on Ben to fill in the gaps. Ben is about as unreliable a narrator as you will find, but here is the gist. The year was 2020, and while we eagerly awaited the Covid vaccine, Ben was learning virtually (nothing). I cast no aspersions. I was teaching remotely that year, and it was the hardest thing I have ever done professionally. The challenge I faced teaching a class of typical learners remotely was like pushing an elephant up a hill, so I can only imagine how hard it was for Ben’s teacher to teach some students in person and others on-line.
Sometimes, Ben’s teacher asked an aide from the classroom to physically drop off work at our house for Ben to do. At one point, she came to the house, rang the doorbell, saw Ben through the window, and waved, thinking Ben might come open the door and talk to her. Nope. Ben just sat in front of the TV, waved to her, then continued watching TV with his (stuffed) pups. I’m not sure who was home with Ben at the time, or how many times she rang the doorbell, but Ben wasn’t budging. She finally gave up and left the work at the front door, but the next time she saw Ben via Zoom, she asked him what was up with not answering the door, and ended with, “You little punk!”
I don’t know why Phil and I find this characterization so funny. Is it because we haven’t heard anyone referred to as a little punk since the 1970s? Is it because the aide had a good relationship with Ben and they both could laugh about it? Is it because we live in a world of carefully constructed teaching moments to correct behavior, and the occasional playful insult thrown into the mix is refreshing? Maybe it is just because when you are acting like a little punk, somebody ought to tell you.
In any case, I find plenty of opportunities to work it into family banter. I recently came home from work, having stopped at the grocery store on the way home. Phil was already home, and saw me drive up, but apparently didn’t see that I was trying to carry everything in one load. He waved and plunked down on the couch instead of opening the door for me. Arms completely full, I knocked on the door with my foot (some may call it kicking) and shouted out, “Open the door, you little punk!”
So, what does a little punk eat for dinner? Well, a knuckle sandwich, of course. We recently saw somebody swooning on Food Network over a pig knuckle sandwich, but I convinced the little punk that a Reuben sandwich would be better. When Chef Ben is in the kitchen, it is a ReuBEN sandwich.
Do you know someone who needs a knuckle sandwich? Consider serving the nonviolent Reuben sandwich instead and everyone ends up happy.