WK

"WK" stands for "Weird Kid."

It’s not that I don’t like children. I do. But I have a working theory about certain children, and it’s this: the weird kids always manage to find me. You know the ones I’m talking about, and let’s face it, there are tons of them out there. But let’s talk about the three most popular versions.

Weird Kid Type 1: The silent, creepy variety. They lurk behind their parents with large zombie eyes and pale skin (always pale skin). Their parents are always desperate to prove to you that their kid is not in fact a WK, but in their efforts to prove otherwise, they do the exact opposite. They’re always begging the child to "answer Ms. So-and-So’s question..." and "Don't be rude, honey...say thank you." Meanwhile, creepy kid just continues to stare at you with unbridled horror, as if they’re expecting you to drag them into a van full of candy with razorblades tucked inside the wrappers. Creepy kids never speak, but you can always imagine a late-night horror movie scene involving a stormy night, a pair of scissors, them standing over their parents’ beds, and a children’s choir singing off-key Latin phrases with tons of reverb.

Weird Kid Type 2: This Kid Will Be in Jail in Ten Years variety. This is the most popular version, in my opinion. This is the child who is running through the grocery store, laughing hysterically while methodically knocking items off of shelves and hitting and/or biting either a younger sibling or an innocent passerby. There is always a weary parent dragging behind this kid, saying "Please. Don’t. Stop. Please. Don’t. Stop." I bet they say that in their sleep. If the parent actually does manage to catch his/her kid, the kid immediately begins to scream "NOOO! NOOOOOOOOO!" This scream is usually followed by the sound of something breaking or someone else crying (usually the mother, out of frustration). And then they’re off again.

Weird Kid Type 3: Just...weird. As in, "Hi, my name is Arthur, and I have memorized an entire volume of the encyclopedia. The 'R' volume. What do you want to know about rodents? I know everything about rodents. I don’t really like rodents, but I know how long they sleep, and what they eat, and I know how many baby rodents are probably living in your cabinets. And I know about real estate, too. It was in the 'R' volume too, you know. Real estate. I might go into real estate. I bet I can tell you how much your house is worth. Ask me. Go on. Ask me." Their mother is constantly smiling weakly at you, patting Arthur’s head while he insists that you paid too much money for your house. After he trots off to build an entire futuristic village with his Legos, she’ll say in a proud, exhausted, and hushed tone, "Arthur’s just so smart. He’s in the gifted class, you know. He’s usually up by 4 AM, and so, you know. I get up then, too. So we’re learning how all the creatures in ‘Lord of the Rings’ could be made from modeling clay. And he’s such a perfectionist. I once called Gandalf 'Giddalf' by mistake, and Arthur went into his room for about eight hours. He only came out when I told him I had made his favorite meal - Lucky Charms with only the pink marshmallows. He’s just so smart. And. Yes. So...he’s just so gifted!"

My mother once told me that if I ever have kids, I'll probably end up with one of these versions. But see...I think that if I did, I'd just have to sit the kid down and say "Billy/Sally? Guess what? Mom has something to talk to you about. You're becoming a WK. And Mommy can't have that. So we're going to work on it."

Can you force a kid to be an NK? A normal kid? I think I might be able to. Because I can be a SA.

A Scary Adult.