Posted on | March 22, 2011 | 5 Comments
We’re quickly approaching the stage where it becomes brutally embarrassing to be a parent in public. J is a little parrot but he can’t actually say things quite as well as he’d like and some of his words sound a bit… funny. We’ve gotten some curious looks in public already and I have a feeling that it’s only going to get worse as we navigate our way to the ripe old age of six or so.
I base this fear on several recent incidents I’ve been lucky enough to witness or read about from family and friends. There are just some things you can’t prepare yourself for. For instance, Husband always makes fun of me when we’re out in public because he says I’m talking really loudly to J. What he doesn’t know is that this is a new skill done to mask certain things that J says. See, my son hasn’t quite mastered the “s” sound quite yet. But there are words he knows that include the letter “s” he just can’t quite get it out without it’s happy companion, “h.” So when he wants me to pick him up out of the cart in a store, he says “UP!” which is unmistakeable. But when he wants me to put him back down, he says “sit” only he includes his friend “h” when he announces it. Awesome, right? The first couple of times it happened, I was the pleasant recipient of some seriously nasty looks that only Southern old women can do effectively. Of course, they could have been glaring at me since I was red-faced, belly laughing. But I know that he’ll outgrow this cute little trait.
Which leads me to a few other funny little things I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing lately. The first one comes from the mouth of the three year old son of a dear, dear friend. We were at a christening for another friend and this little boy had been just golden. We’re talking he sat quietly, he listened, he didn’t make a peep. But when the whole thing was over and he was up from his stroller and walking around, he had a few questions. Namely, he really wanted his mother, a devout Catholic herself, to explain something to him. So he sauntered over to the Priest who was relaxing on the front pew and announced in his cherubic little voice:
“Mommy? Why is that man wearing a dress?’
Complete with pointing.
Now, a lesser mom would have either re-directed or made something up, but my friend wanted to answer his question. So she tried to explain the point of holy robes to her three year old. He wasn’t buying it. He just kept saying “But he’s wearing a DRESS!”
To her credit, she kept her voice calm and quiet and she answered him every time. Me? Well, it took every ounce of my Southern Baptist heart not to bust out laughing.
So we have THAT to look forward to in the coming years.
And then we have the most delightful story from my sister. My five-year-old nephew was out picking flowers in their back yard. (This one, okay, didn’t happen in public… but it totally could have.) He ran back in to tell my sis about his adventures and proudly announced that he had picked her a bunch of…
Now I don’t know what my sister’s response was. Maybe she was calm and collected and explained that he meant “Buttercups.” Maybe she thanked him for the Butt-Cuppers and went on with her day.
I laughed my arse off.
I may have some growing up to do along side my son.