Kids: You spend the first 2 years of their life teaching them to walk and talk . . . Then you spend the next 16 telling them to sit down and shut-up.
Jay calls me the other morning after he dropped WC off at preschool. Whenever he calls me after the child is out of the car I know it’s going to be a story that we aren’t supposed to laugh at in front of him. He tells me that he & WC were horse playing around before they left the house. WC bounced off of Jay’s behind and announces, “You’re butts almost as big as Miss Jane’s.” Now, Miss Jane, a teacher at his preschool has never been accused of being a small woman. But I’m mortified because I try my best to instill in him that size, shape and color in people do not matter in whether or not they are good people. Then Jay proceeds to tell me that on their drive to school that WC is talking about a book that he likes to look at. And in this book the bad guy is quite large. Then WC announces, “He’s fat. Miss Jane isn’t fat. She just has a big butt.” Please don’t let him say stuff like this out loud around other people. Then WC tells Jay that the villain in his story has a very large belly- “Almost as big as yours, daddy.” Boy that kid was on a roll. I’ve been told before by a teacher in his previous room that he says the most “interesting” things. I won’t ask what. If I ever want to know if I look fat in something all I need to do is ask him. I can guarantee you that I will not be asking…
He got out of bed the other night just to come and ask me if Zebra’s were white w/ black stripes or black w/ white stripes.
A few weeks back my mom calls me at work. She watches CJ during the day and if she calls it usually isn’t good. The first thing she says when I answer, “We have to teach CJ how to say truck properly.” I burst out laughing because I instantly know what word he’s using instead. She tells me that a truck drove past the house and CJ ran to the window screaming, “F---, F---!” And she yells back, “No, its truck, tr-uck, tr-uck.” And he turns to her smiles and scream, “F---, F---, F---!” And she just wanted me to know that way when he said it again I wouldn’t think he picked it up from her. Great now I can’t wait to leave him in the church nursery. A few nights later he & WC were in the bathtub. WC holds up a toy truck turns to CJ and asked, “What does a car say?” CJ grins & yells, “F---!” WC doesn’t miss a beat and says, “No…silly a car says vroom vroom. Maybe if a car is being driven by my mom it says the “f” word. Now that the weather’s gotten nicer outside and we’ve had the windows open CJ stands in front of the open window staring out at the truck across the street screaming “F---.” And to add more fuel as to whether or not the neighbors think I’m raising a potty mouth baby- the other evening after we arrived home my WC wanted to ride his bike. So I said we could spend a few minutes out in the driveway. Our neighbors a couple houses down were having mattresses delivered and nice large delivery truck sat on the side of the road. CJ, stands in the middle of the front yard staring down the street yelling at the top of his lungs what sounds to everyone in ear shot like a profanity. And to make matters worse (yes, worse) the work fork now sounds exactly like his word for truck. Now at the dinner table I get to hear him chant it like a school fight song. Note to self: Do not invite the pastor over for dinner anytime soon.
*Special Note: thinking about my late godson today. Alex was born into heaven 4 months ago today. I miss not getting to know him.