Extra points if you’re old enough to get the reference in the title.
Yesterday our 2 1/2 year old grandson was at our house. He wanted to show off his Halloween costume (fireman) and of course, he had to practice Trick-or-Treating at Grandma & Grandpa’s house.
His mom was coaching him on Trick-or-Treat manners. She asked, “What do you say when the people answer the door?”
when my youngest, now 5, went trick or treating with his older brothers for the first time he was 2 1/2. He happily walked up to each door with the big boys and joined right in on the “Trick or Treat!” Or so I thought. After a few doors, I found myself listening a little closer and realized he was really saying “Christmas Tree!”
same child, about 4.
irritably, “Dad, stop moving that thing.”
“What thing?”
“Your mouth!”
sounds like it was scripted by a sitcom writer, but he wasn’t being clever, just couldn’t quite remember the right words on his first try.
The other day in the car, my three-year-old told me, “Mommy, you need to put a sock in it!” (I may or may not have said something similar to his sister when she kept arguing and arguing and arguing…). I told him, “You can’t say that to me, H, it’s not polite.”
He thought about that for a minute, and then said, “Mommy, you need to put a sock in it, please.”
My sister, who is most definitely a Lady, while driving her Kia Sedona says to the slow moving gentlemen in front of us “Gosh, speed up mister”. Then right after, her 3 year old son yells “Slow down asshole!” (She’s married to a Naval officer)
Daughter, almost 11, after finding out she’s getting a sibling. “Mom, you’re going to be a parent of two, I’m going to be a big sister, and Wella [our cat] is getting a new pet”
My maternal grandmother died just after I was born; my step-Grandma was the only Grandmother I ever knew. I could not have asked for a better one, in spite of her religious beliefs.
When I was 6 or so, I was at church with her and my Grandpa. This was a Southern Baptist Church where the women and children generally congregated separately. I was standing with Grandma, who introduced me to one of the other church members as “‘Grandpa’s’ granddaughter, 'SCL”"
She told me many years later I looked up at her with tears in my eyes and said “Aren’t I your granddaughter, too?”
After that she introduced the grandchildren (there were over 30 of us between her 6 kids and his 5) as “our” grandchildren - and let anyone who was nosey about geneology ask!
This happened years ago. My husband was playing the guitar while I sang. After the song our younger son asked, “Daddy, why don’t you sing?” My husband said, “I just can’t.” Our son said, “Why? You 'lergic to it?”
My precocious son, Jake, was a source of much hilarity when he was little.
When he was about three, he asked my mom, “Gramma, how many pounds are you?”
She replied, “Jake, it’s not polite to ask a woman how much she weighs”. Jake thought about it a bit and then said:
“Gramma, do you eat a lot?”
At about the same age, he pointed to a bruise on his leg and said, “Look, mama, I have a brew”.
I said, “Don’t you mean you have a bruise?”
“No”, Jake said. “I only have one”.
I had Linkletter’s book with that title when I was a kid. I recall one line as being the simple “I’m starving to death!”. Another one was a written statement about a rouge elephant. Lots of other little juvenile malaprops that I’ve seen copied over the years, if this was their actual origin. I don’t recall ever seeing the House Party show, and the radio program probably predates me.
My older children would often refer to this or that “clo” … a shirt, a sock, a jacket. I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from and I finally realized that all the stuff they wore every day was “clothes,” plural, while one article was a “clo.”
I read the book because Charles Schulz illustrated it. It seems that the premise of the show was very simple. “What’s your name? How old are you? What grade are you in and what’s the one thing your parents told you not to talk about?” Kid blurts out “My mom said not to call it ‘that damned PTA’!” and hilarity ensues. :rolleyes:
My exhusbands’ nephew could not pronounce certain consonants as a toddler. I was told that one day my ex showed up at his sister’s house with a new truck and a GF. The kiddo was at the window watching him park. He ran to the door to greet him and said, “Uncle Paul, I like your new fuck!”
My son is in kindergarten learning how to read and spell simple words. The other day in the car he proudly announced that he could spell ACE. I said ok, tell mom how to spell ACE. He spelled A - S - S. I couldn’t stop laughing, and I told him what that really spelled. He was confused. Why would ACE and the naughty word be spelled the same way??
CP Jr: Mom, why did God even make that country if they don’t have any food? (re: Somalia)
Me: Technically there’s enough food in the world for everybody if we share. Some bad guys are stealing all the food we’re trying to share.
CP Jr: So why does God gotta even make bad guys?? It’s all his fault!
Me: You’re going to blame God for what people do?
CP Jr: Well if God had given S’maleans enough food, they wouldn’t have bad guys stealing anything! DUH! It’s ALL GOD’S FAULT!
Me: I think you’re going to be a rabbi when you grow up.
(a week later)
CP Jr: I think I have an idea for tzedakah!
Me: What’s that?
CP Jr: Give all my old clothes to the kids in Australia!
Me: Australia?
CP Jr: Yeah, where all those starving naked kids are.
Me: You mean ‘Somalia’?
CP Jr: Yeah, because I think the bad guys are stealing their clothes, too.
Two recent ones from my young clients (I am a behavior analyst for children with autism):
One two-year-old client’s mother observed him making a repetitive “hip-grinding” motion when he sat on the bed. Curious about his motives, she asked him, “Does that feel nice?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Where does it feel nice?” she asked.
“In the penis!”
And also:
Just yesterday, I was playing with my seven-year-old client and when she hugged my arm, her fingers tickled my armpit. I laughed, and that encouraged her to keep sticking her fingers up the sleeve of my shirt for several minutes. Finally, I told her, “Stop, P, you need to ask me.”