“Ew, James! I smell the stank!” I announce. (I often announce things, like dirty diapers, or how I am now going to do a load of laundry when the children are the only other people in the house. I don’t know why I declare things like this out of nowhere. I can’t help it. I often break into song for no reason at all. It can be very loud to live with me.)
(People wouldn’t know this unless they are Jeff. I am really shy around everyone else.)
“I wanna see! I wanna see!” Faith screams as she runs into the room. (Faith has an odd obsession for wanting to be present during dirty diaper changes. It’s really rather disturbing.)
“You don’t want to see this,” I say. (I tell her this every time.)
“I gonna watch you, Mommy, okay?” (She says this as if she is explaining something to a very young child.)
“If you have to,” I tell her absently as I’m already starting the disgusting job of wiping slimy foul matter off of Jamie’s tiny rear.
“Mommy. What’s THAT?” (She is pointing to Jamie’s special parts.)
“His poopoo?” I say to buy some time as I hurry up the process.
“No, Mommy! THAT right there!”
“Oh you mean his pee pee?” (Yeah, pee pee. Code for the real word. I’ve heard other parents use that. Sure. Okay. This will work.)
“No, that’s not pee pee,” she sounds exasperated at my stupidity. (Of course! Because everyone knows that pee pee is urine, NOT a body part.)
“Damn.” I don’t say this out loud. Instead I say, “uhhh,” like the intelligent and quick thinking person I am.
“Uhhh,” I continue. (Do I give her the true technical term? I suddenly have a vision of her announcing what the names of Jamie’s parts are in church. No. I can’t tell her the true name. Must come up with toddler slang.)
“Umm,” I stall. (I don’t want to confuse the child. I imagine her saying that’s not a ball or that’s not a nut. Why can’t I think? I am the parent, why am I suddenly stumped by something so stupid? What the hell am I going to say when she asks where babies come from?)
“Mommy look! Clifford the dog is on!” she exclaims happily as she runs off.
I breathe a sigh of relief and look down at James who has been staring confusedly at me this whole time. “Ummm!” he suddenly says.
Great. Glad I’ve taught you something wise, son.
1 comment:
It seems like we should seem extra-intelligent and powerful since we spend our days with tiny, impressionable humans but, uhh, not so much.
"Daddy says fuck" Ethan announced tonight. "Ummm, yeah, but it's not a nice word, I don't want you to say it," blah blah blah. So all evening he shouts "FUH" then looks at me triumphantly. Okay, he's taunting me! I can't put him in timeout for a syllable, can I? Can't wait for this to come up in church, because you know it will.
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