There is this kid living next door (I have mentioned him before) that I swear will make a man put off having kids forever. His name is Marun. A little twig of a boy who asks so many questions I actually hear them in my sleep sometimes.

He is so light I can actually hold him by his feet with just my fingers and lift him off the ground without fear of him falling. I actually swing him around that way. He likes it so much he always screams "Again!" whenever I finally put him down. He apparently still has not grasped the concept that muscular fatigue occurs by repeating a similar physical activity over and over again, just like he has not grasped the idea that I am not some kind of super-sized toy at his full disposal.

Don't get me wrong, I love kids. Of course this wasn't always the case, but when my son came into my life all that changed. I used to see kids as long-term, no return investments that I really could not be bothered with because they caused more headaches than anything else. Like a lot of men I was especially fearful of having a daughter. Let's just say that based on my own experiences growing up I would not want my daughter to experience any guy like the one I was. I also don't like prison and believe me, any man doing any emotional, physical or psychological harm to my female child is going to be leaving the land of the living.

I first met Marun when he was just shy of his third birthday. His parents had just come over from India and moved into my apartment building. Back then, at night, I used to stand on the balcony of my ground-level apartment and gaze up at the sky. It helped me relax. On some of those evenings his parents would be coming in with him and would have to pass my balcony as the walkway to the entrance is right next to it.

After a while I started to say 'Hello, little man' and he would reach out his clenched fist to me. We would then bump fists and I would say "Cool". Soon after, he started calling me "Cool Man".

Since then our friendship has evolved into what it is today, a 42-year-old managing editor with a rabid four-year-old fan. There are times when I get home and this little boy runs screaming towards my car shouting "Cool Man! Cool Man! Cool Man!" I swear I know how those Hollywood stars feel.

He then opens my car door, asks me a million questions before I even unbuckle my seatbelt and then escorts me to my apartment, opens my door after I unlock it, and then runs inside, turns on the television and chooses a channel before plopping down onto my couch. But while the attention is sometimes nice, it would be just as nice if he would allow me to get out of my work clothes, have a shower and down a cold one, before he looks at me with his bright little eyes filled with the question "Are we gonna play?"

One night recently I had to escort him out, kicking and screaming. He braced his back against my front door, screaming No! No! Noooooooo!!!! as I eased the door closed, locking him out because I needed to catch a shower and put my feet up. What can I say; it was a very long day. His mom, whom he hardly ever listens to, eventually came to my rescue.

After I had showered, I heard him fidgeting around outside my balcony. Before long I heard him call out "Cooooool Maaan, come outside. I want to play." The door to the balcony was closed so I got up and pulled the drapes. "No, playing tonight," I thought to myself.

This calling out from my balcony is something that happens on weekends too. Not all the time but enough to make me start to think this kid is stalking me.

Now, don't get me wrong. I like playing with him. He is naughty, but he is fun and he makes me laugh, but sometimes he gets too carried away. I hope he doesn't grow up and treat his girlfriend like that because before long she'll be hiding from him too.

It is also perhaps why his mom has not had another child. Poor woman can barely handle the one child as it is. Another would surely be more than enough for her to handle. And while I like to help people, I am no superman.

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