Wanda and David Wilson’s dinner parties are well-known to friends and family members for being somber, dull affairs. But that all changed Saturday evening when their four-year-old son, Taylor, was brought out to perform for the bored guests. And perform he did!
“I was blown away,” said friend Darren Wittingham. “Completely and utterly blown away. This kid started counting, and he just kept going. Had I known that Wanda and Dave’s kid could count to a hundred and thirty-seven, I would have brought a date. It was fu*king amazing.”
“You know, I’m not easily impressed, but, yeah, this kid is a born entertainer,” said Margaret Cholarez. “I’ve seen ‘em come and I’ve seen ‘em go, but Taylor’s got it.”
It all started about thirty minutes after the guests had finished their dinner. And this is the time, according to those contacted for this story, that the couple’s parties tend to lose steam and inevitably careen toward Jenga or charades. But this night, this night would be different.
“Dave is usually a one, two drink kind of guy,” said Mrs. Wilson. “But for some reason he had a lot more than just one or two, and it resulted in him waking Taylor up to do his counting trick. At first, I was steamed that he would wake Taylor for the purpose of entertaining our guests, but once I saw how enthusiastic he was to perform, and how mesmerized everyone was, well, I had to just go with it.”
“The kid starts out at one, and I’m thinking, ‘Well, that’s pretty damn predictable,’” said Martin Aldorrson – a regular at the couple’s dinner parties. “But then he hits four and then five and then six and then seven, and I’m thinking, ‘Hey, wait a minute, something’s happening here.’ He gets up into the forties and we’re all cheering him on. It was amazing. The kid just kept going and going. He didn’t stop for a drink of water. He didn’t blink. His focus was unbelievable. I’m getting all worked up just thinking about it.”
“At first I was mad at my daddy for waking me up,” said a proud Taylor. “And his breath smelled weird and sour, like my teacher Mr. Hill’s breath always does. But then I started counting and they really liked me and it was fun. I can count to one hundred and thirty-seven, you know. Watch….one, two, three, four,…”
As successful as Taylor was at both counting and entertaining his parents guests, his performance ended on somewhat of a sour note when Taylor hit one hundred and thirty-seven – a number which he has for months been struggling to get past.
“He’s stuck at a hundred and thirty-seven,” said Taylor’s mom. “For whatever reason he can’t get to one hundred thirty-eight and beyond and it’s really become a sensitive subject for him. So, of course, he gets to one thirty-seven, and a couple of Dave’s insensitive co-workers yell out: ‘What’s next? Come on, one thirty-eight!’ And with that, Taylor ran into his room crying and wouldn’t come out again. Thanks a lot, guys.”
“Boy, I felt like a real jerk,” said Peter Bullis, one of the offending hecklers. “But how was I to know? And besides, who can’t count to one thirty-eight? If you can count to one thirty-seven, shouldn’t you be able to count to one thirty- eight? It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. Call me a jerk or whatever, but I don’t think he’s a whiz kid at all.”