Fantastic.
I would offer him some, but I have a strong suspicion that Daddy might not be allowed to have beer around the house anymore if I do.
Mmm, I looove beer, I love it!
When our 18 month old burps, she then says, “I buwp.” I’ve been trying to replace that with “excuse me” to no avail. It probably doesn’t help that I tend to laugh when she says “I buwp.”
The thing with the wrong feet somehow reminds me of something I read in a magazine:
Two siblings riding in a car, past a graveyard. Big sister explains to little brother, “That’s where they bury the bodies when people die. . . . I have no idea what they do with the heads.”
Can I add an anecdote about a kid who’s a bit older than a toddler? Because my rabbi just told me a great story about his daughter.
yes…
Rabbi and his family were at a swamp in the Carolinas. They see something moving in the water, and tearing down a leaf.
Rabbi asks, “Do alligators eat leaves?”
Rabbi’s wife says, “Yes, but their favorite food is cute six-year-old girls.”
Said six-year-old runs off screaming. Her sister calls after her, “Come back, it’s all right! You’re not cute!”
The rabbi told me this story because Cute-Six-Year-Old was going into a panic whenever someone mentioned alligators. I’m afriad I compounded the trauma. At one point I told her that, “Don’t worry, there are no alligators here. Especially not under that bench you’re sitting on.” (I am evil).
My daughter, at about that age, was at daycare with a case of the toots. Miss Melanie says “Do you have gas on your tummy?” “No, Miss Melanie, I have gas in my butt.”
And my son at three - “Grandpa, why do policeman like donuts?” We are still trying to figure out where he learned the donut shop stereotype.
A conversation I had with my nephew when he was about 3. (He’d been agruing with me)
Me: Daniel, you are so full of crap. (He already knew this word, BTW)
Him: No, Aunt Sissy, you full of crap.
Me: Oh yeah? Well you’re full of Doody then.
Him: No, Aunt Sissy you full of Doody.
Me: Oh yeah, well you’re full of BS
Him:No, Aunt Sissy, You full of BS
Me:laughing You don’t even know that BS is.
Him pause I do too! It’s ABC’s!
Another Bruiser episode, fresh from last night.
He and his older brother take turns falling asleep with Mama, and every night Bruiser says “Sleep in Mama’s bed!” whether it’s his turn or not (with predictable results when it’s not).
We’ve started giving Older Brother time-outs on his bed when he gets naughty, especially if he gets angry with Bruiser and starts getting rough. So last night, when it was not Bruiser’s turn to fall asleep with Mama, he deliberately provokes Older Brother into shoving him around. (We weren’t aware of this at the time.) Older Brother hits and shoves, gets a time out on his own bed, and Bruiser says “I sleep in Mama’s bed now!”
Time-out got revoked immediately, of course, and Bruiser got talked to about playing nice.
Middlebro and SiL reaaaaally overdo the discipline; as so many first parents, they’re slowly learning to relax as time goes by, but they still expect their 3yo to follow rules too complicated for a 7yo. Poor kid has been convinced that he can’t do anything right (and that when he does something right, it doesn’t count) for over a year.
So, his little sister is born a few weeks before the Kidlet turns 3. He gets a scolding if he doesn’t notice in time that he needs to pee; nobody expects her to ask (logically). He gets a scolding if he throws something; when she does, the grown ups laugh and say “so cute!”. He farts? “MARCOS!!!” She farts? “Oooooh, my widdle baby is having da fawtties! 'ooo’s a cutie, 'ooo?”
Many of his friends are girls. All his friends have less rules than he does.
I’m assuming that’s why, one day when he was about 3 and a half, I’d picked him at school and we’d spent three hours playing in a park instead of hurrying home to his Grandma-who-doesn’t-play, he confided in me that “when I’m older, I’ll be a girl… and I’ll be able to wear any clothes and I’ll do whatever I want” (the Kidlette isn’t even 1yo and she’s already getting The Scoldings, so the Kidlet doesn’t want to be a girl when he grows up, any more).
My eldest son at 3 years of age, sat in the bathtub, water up to his chubby little chest and ever so earnestly asked if he could, “have a reprieve from hair washing tonight”. What would you have done?
He was the same child who at the age of two asked why we live if we are all going to die. I blame Pinocchio. I think he was fixated with Geppetto’s grief over presumably losing his son.
When I was a medical corpsman in the Air Force, I worked on the pediatric ward. It was a WWII hospital, laid out like a spider, with all the wards being long rows of beds on either side with a walk way down the middle. It had been remodeled a bit, making a couple private rooms at the far end for isolation.
One day we has a 3 or 4 year old in for possible measles. He’d discovered the call light, playing with it all day long. I’m sure he was lonely down there all by himself, but the nurse caring for him was old and a little crotchity. She finally got fed up with walking all the way down the hall for no reason, so next time the call light came on she used the intercom to ask what he wanted. No answer, so she turned the light off. Blink! on again, and again, no answer to her question “What do you want?”
Finally, after several tries, she asked if he could hear her.
A tiny, shaky voice replied “Yes, Santa, I hear you…”
My wife just got finished hollering at my son for something or other when he was a wee one. He waited for it to be over, and then came over and patted my wife on the arm and said in a concerned voice, “Mommy, did you get enough sleep last night?”
Regards,
Shodan
I love these. Mine is now 5 and still cracks me up constantly. Some of my favorites-
-At 2-3, whenever I would get on to him, he would hold his hands up in front of himself and turn his head to he side (as if warding off an attack), and say, “You’re not the monster, you’re the Mommy!”
-Same age, shortly after having tubes put in his ears, he was sensitive to loud sounds. I helped him flush one of those giant steel potties in a public restroom and he ran around in circles, terrified. When it was over he said to me, “Whew. That scares my feelings!”
-About 2 months ago after having gotten a particularly stern talking to for acting up in the store, we were discussing everything and he said, “I don’t like it when you get mad. I wish you didn’t have any eyebrows!!”
-A couple weeks ago on vacation in the mountains we were in a particularly pretty pass, so I said “Wow this looks like Fern Gully, doesn’t it kids? Look for fairies!”… 30 minutes later we were hiking in a darker part of the woods and he pipes up, “Is this where the tooth fairy got ate?”