My daighter is funny. Really funny, especially for a 12yo*. There’s a lot of fart jokes, etc, but there are times when she just lays one out that has us in tears. She’s pretty damned smart and uses her knowledge in her jokes. Well, at least the ones that don’t deal with flatulence, or “dad’s nasty feet” or whatever. She is 12.
The other day I was talking to my wife about a mutual acquaintance, with Sophia in the back seat listening to us. I had finished describing him as “an asshole, but at least he loves his dogs.”
Sophia pipes up “You know, just like Hitler!”
I had to pull over for a minute I was laughing so hard.
*I’ll watch her with her friends and it’s bizarre. They all just sit there, looking at her with bemused/amazed/horrified expressions on their face while she is just going on and on and on. I asked one of them why they liked her and they said “I don’t have the slightest idea what she’s going to do next!”
My little girl was about three years old when she floored us. She was all bathed and dressed in her PJs for bed. She gave me and her mommy hugs and kisses before traipsing off to the bed room. As she left, I called after her, as I often did (and do), “Be good.”
So, she turned around and came back, hands on her little hips and said, “Daddy, I am ALWAYS good in bed!”
Yeah, not what you want to hear your little girl (at any age) say.
We should introduce her to my nephew - he has that same weird, where-did-THAT-come-from sense of humor that gets people staring at him in disbelief, but damned if he doesn’t make me laugh every time.
One of my favorites: In the backseat of my car, I had a little notepad from work with the words, “Things to do today,” stenciled on the top. One day, I found it under the seat, and my nephew had printed on the top line, “YOUR MOM.” Maybe you had to be there, but the thought of him quietly writing that for his own amusement and showing no one cracked me up. I laughed so hard there were tears in my eyes.
I took my daughter (3 at the time) and son (5 at the time) to swimming lessons at the YMCA after school. There is a family locker room where they change, which within it has private/personal bathrooms. Right after I changed my daughter into her swimsuit she pooped in it. I knew she must have had a stomach bug, as it just had that sicky smell (plus she had been potty trained for some time).
Anyway, I took her into a private bathroom to change her back into her clothes, with strict instructions to my son to stay put on the bench in the family area. While changing her I lost my cookies - I was just overwhelmed by the poop smell, the fetid locker room odor and humidity, and the nasty poop that ended up all over my hands. So I barfed, long and hard, getting vomit (in addition to some poop) on my clothes.
While she’s cowering in the corner naked and wondering what the hell is wrong with me, I hear my my son start shouting and banging and going crazy in the family area. I knew right away what he had done (locked himself in one of the full length wardrobe lockers that I had told him perhaps a dozen times to stay out of). I could not stop retching, so it took me almost two minutes to open the bathroom door and get out there to help him. By then a some older gentleman had come over to see what was going on, just as I opened the locker door and let him out. He gave my son, me, and my daughter (the latter two covered in bodily secretions) a smirk and walked away. I felt like Dad of the Year.
So, I think it’s quite funny, now. Back then, not so much.
My ten year old daughter and I were staying a few days with my out of town girlfriend. She had two boys aged 10 and 8. While enjoying an afternoon delight with the girlfriend, the 10 year old boy, with his brother and my daughter following, barged into the bedroom yelling, “Look they are doing it, they are doing it!” *
I got even with the little bastard later. He was taking a dump in the bathroom, when I opened the door and yelled, “Look, he is doing it, he is doing it!”
*Installed a lock on the bedroom door the very same day.
A short while ago my daughter (was 11) was making a really goofy face at me and I told her she looked like a fish or a duck or a combination of the two.
“Oh, you mean a fuck!” my six year old son exclaimed.
Word for word, this is exactly what happened to us just the other day. Our three-year-old absolutely insisted that Mommy give me (Daddy) a “surprise” (for him meaning “gift or candy”) after he observed me successfully relieve myself. He bugged us until Mommy finally gave me a big kiss.
I think I’ve posted this before, one from my nephew when he was around 3 or 4.
[Context]There used to be a variety show on Australian TV that had a character called Plukka-Duck. Some guy in a duck suit would run around the set and act crazy. My nephew*** loved*** watching the show.[/Context]
One day were out shopping and had to go in the bank, the teller was a lovely silver-haired elderly lady, very nice and quite proper. Anyway she asked my nephew what he wanted to do when he grew up:
Fuck a duck!!! was the reply. I laughed, my sister did’nt.
My daughter just got home from shopping with her four year old son, still mortified and embarrassed. Apparently he’d chosen the middle of the supermarket to ask when she was going to have another baby, because he really wants a new little sister or brother.
Of course, at the top of his adorable lungs, he exclaimed, “So mum, when is daddy going to plant his seed inside your tummy, huh?”
Plukka was the epitome of bad taste, political incorrectness and all round sleaziness. Golly I miss him.
I can’t imagine how I must have looked…but when I was around 5 or so, my father took me out on my bike while he went jogging. going down a hill he told me to slow down, so of course I applied the front brake - he says he had to carry me and the bike the 3 miles home…with blood pouring down my face. Dunno what my mother must have said.
Then only a matter of months later, I was pushing an empty swing, and waited for it to come back…good thing was, at least now my eyebrows were balanced. Dunno what mum said about that one either.
My mom has a story about her most embarassing moment with me. I was about 3 so I have a very vague memory of it. It seems I was having a temper tantrum and my mom grabbed my arm - at the same time I pulled back and my cry went from “bratty” to “in pain.” She took me to the hospital and it turned out that I had a pulled muscle and I had to wear a sling for a short time. Anyway, a while later we were on the city bus and the bus went past the hospital. Apparently I pointed and said “THAT’S WHERE WE WENT WHEN MOMMY BROKE MY ARM!”
Dweezil, then 5 or 6, used to looooove McDonald’s Chicken McNuggets. We thought they were beyond vile (once, they gave us a double order by mistake so I tried one - and literally could not eat an entire nugget - I swear there was more gristle than there was artificial binders in the thing).
So, we came up with alternative terms for them.
Until the day we took Dweezil to a friend’s house for a birthday party, and I heard from the next room “Mommy! They have BUZZARD BITES!!!”
About 28 years ago my brother was in the Army and stationed at Walter Reed hospital in Washington DC. Housing there is expensive. After a year in a crappy apartment he and a co-worker figured they could rent a nice townhouse for less than than what they each paid for individual rents.
Everything appeared to be that they were roommates with seperate bedrooms. They got outed as a couple to our very high strung conservative Catholic Mom after an innocent comment made the 3 year old pipe up, “I hate when I have to get to bed early and Mommy goes to sleep in Keith’s room.”
This story just came up at Christmas as my now darling neice has two toddlers of her own now.
