I am Pocko

Hi, I’m Pocko. Jeff doesn’t know I’m writing this. He’s finally taking a break from sitting in front of his computer. You can’t imagine how much time he spends in front of his thing. He used to play Ultima Online for hours and hours. Then it was Galaxies and then World of Warcraft. Gah. He finally grew up and now he works on more projects than he has time for, and blogs. Every once in a while I convince him to call his Mother.

During the drunk time, I took care of Jeff. He claims that he was a high-functioning alcoholic, but I’m the one who did all the high functioning. He’s had the same job for seventeen-and-a half years: all the bills got paid, the kids got to school, taxes got filed, and he never got in legal trouble of any kind. Often that was thanks to me.

I was born when Jeff brought me home from work. He had a work-friend who told him the story of how his sister would torment her fiancé. Most of the time they were fine together, but sometimes the poor guy would ‘misbehave’. They would be sitting at dinner and he would be irritating her by balancing spoons on his nose, and she’d ask, ‘Does Paco need to come out?’ Usually that was enough – he’d settle right down. But sometimes it wasn’t, and Paco would come out and sit on his shoulder, or order dinner for him in a very high, nasally voice, and was always sure to get the order wrong in every way possible.

Jeff thought this was such a funny story that he brought me home to his kids. I became an instant celebrity. I was the only one that could get HB to eat her vegetables. I read entire bedtime stories. I kissed boo-boos, gave hugs, and became the leader of the Pocko Pack (PB’s got Baby Pocko and now Dr. Pocko has made an appearance). Jeff’s kids tell me things they won’t tell anyone else. They trust in me. They talk to me.

I’m glad I don’t have to take care of Jeff anymore. I’ve had time to get out a little, to spend time alone. To reflect. I’m always around, though. Sometimes I still whisper in Jeff’s ear when I know there’s a cop waiting around a bend so he can slow down to avoid a ticket. I like to get him humming a tune on the radio before it actually starts. I remind him of people before he sees them that day, just so he won’t be surprised. But mostly I enjoy time with his kids.

I know I’m not much to look at. Really, I’m a nod to Señor Wences’ Johnny, sans makeup. But I enjoy my life, such as it is. I wouldn’t want to be anyone else.

I…am… Pocko!