Don’t they? Don’t your children just make your heart light and your cheeks hurt from smiling? Mine does. Ah, the sweet voiced way The Boss says “Hi Mommy” can make my fluttering heart practically fly out of my chest and hearing him sing Big Yellow Taxi (well to be fair, he only sings the oooooooooo bop bop bop part) in the car just makes my whole day.
He is an utter delight.
But this week we have entered new phase of joy from children…the inadvertantly saying dirty things phase.
Maybe I’m twelve (okay I totally am twelve) but when Mr. Max asks for his ‘dum dicks’ I giggle every time!
BTW ‘Mommy, dum dicks!” translates to “oh dearest mummy, would you please get me my drum sticks and move the rock band drums to the center of the living room so that I might, indeed, rock the house?”
Of course the answer is: YES! You’re a rock god my little man and plus? mommy can have a little more coffee while you are banging the drum (silently) loudly.
Like all little ones his lexicon is a mix of actual English and then a great deal of The Boss-enese. It took me nearly a week to figure out that a tekko is actually a helicopter, and nacanoni is guacamole, while boon is a much more easily recognizable version of balloon.
I pay or may not purposely put him in blue shirts just to hear him say, well you can just guess what blue shirt sounds like now can’t you?
Last night though I was at a loss for words. The Boss wasn’t. He wanted poon. (oh the google searches that will lead to this post, eh? Sorry boys nothing to see…move along!) He wanted more poon. He wanted eat more poon. Baby want poon. Daddy eat poon. Mommy eat poon. Poon, poon POON!!! His frustration that I just did not understand what he wanted (because surely he did not want, y’know…the actual slang meaning) and wasn’t readily giving up the poon was growing by the second. He was becoming more and more adamant in his want…no his need for poon!!!
And I was laughing and wishing I had a tape recorder. The more I tried to understand and take him seriously the more I giggled. Because I am 12. The more I giggled the more frustrated he became.
Thank heavens I finally opened the fridge in a desperate attempt to find something he might like and he joyously cried “POON!” and reached for the vanilla pudding.
Ooooooh. Pudding. I see – Poon. Ok, poon thou shalt have! I mean who doesn’t love a good pudding! (Well, me. But that’s besides the point.)
Ah, one more mystery solved. And now on to the next. Out of the mouths of babes!