Unfunny things kids say, Part 1

I had a six-year-old girl sit down in my First Grade Sunday School class one morning and announce to the room in general, “My daddy has to go away for a while.”

“Ah,” I said encouragingly, “Is he going on a trip?”
“No,” she said brightly, “His prole offer says he has to go away for a while so he can learn how to be good.” She nodded emphatically.

We live about 4 miles south of the collapsed bridge in Minneapolis. we took it regularly to visit my Mom, or other friends living on the north side of town. It’s also the route to my son’s Pre-School.

My 4 year-old car-freak son wasn’t feeling well that night, so he laid in my lap, quietly watching the news. I knew that he was paying close attention though, because he was VERY concerned about the cars.

A day or so later, he asked, “Daddy, were the cars hurt in the bridge?”

I explained to him that some cars were damaged.

He understood, went away for a bit and came back.

“Daddy, were there people in the cars? Did the people get hurt?”

I sat down, cuddled up close and explained that people were in the cars, and some of them were hurt in the collapse.

“Daddy, I don’t want to go over bridges anymore. They’ll fall down and hurt us. And break the cars!!! And we won’t be able to go to Pre-school anymore!!”

We’v chatted a lot about bridges, death, broken cars, and pre-school over the past month.


There’s always hang-gliding.

I want to give all the kids in this thread a big ol’ hug, especially yours, WhyNot. Children should never have to suffer anything more serious than a broken arm.

For me, having my teenaged son crying in the car after leaving Grandpa’s, listening to him scream, “No, the doctors can make him better! We need to find the doctors who can make him better!”

Sadly, no. It’s hard telling your children that there’s nothing anybody can do, that Grandpa is dying, and all we can do is enjoy the time we have left.

Cancer sucks.

I was having dinner with, among others, my ex’s niece’s adopted son. He kept pointing to fixtures on the walls and ceilings, and asking if they were smoke detectors. He was very afraid of smoke detectors. Because they are Bad Things. When they go off, you see, you have to watch your brother die.

I’m so glad that he and his surviving brother now have an amazing mother, rather than two fucked up asshole parents who don’t give a shit if their kids die.

Or parasailing.

Still, this reminds me of the youtube video, Kiwi!.

Your post broke my heart. I dread the day my daughter comes to me and asks why she only has a grandmother. My husbands parents died when he was young and I got pregnant 7 months after my dad died.

My little one calls both my husband and me “daddy” and the only time she says “mama” is when she’s really upset. :frowning:

God, these are awful. I’m so glad I don’t have anything to add.

Yeah, some are, but some are just touching. When Chris told me I was his best friend in the whole world, it was sad but cute at the same time.

He was back for a visit this year. He was sad that he couldn’t see me. “But not that sad, because I know I’ll see him.” My ex explained what breaking up means, and asked him if he understood. He did. But he’d see me anyway. My ex asked him how he thought that could happen. He replied “You will bring him to me.”

And she did. :slight_smile:

is Chris a child? that wasn’t clear from your post, but I’m begining to think he is.

He’s six.

Oh, absolutely. If it wasn’t crystal clear from my use of quotes, I think the idea that a man can’t/shouldn’t cry is utterly ridiculous. Which is what made it so hard to know how to teach him proper social boundaries around crying. 'Cause, of course men cry. But little boys who cry too much get beat up and ignored and laughed at, and that’s no good, either. It has been a very fuzzy line to walk all along.

He feels fine, now, by the way. The surgery was a great success and there’s no lingering pain, and he’s got much more socially appropriate control over his tear ducts as well as learning how to use words to express his feelings. It’s not always easy, but he is most definitely becoming a young man - a real man, capable of tears when appropriate and stifling them when not - whom I’m very proud of.

When my daughter was 2, her dad got a DUI and was sentenced to 30 days in the county jail. He worked out a deal with the judge that he could serve that sentence on the weekends. Every Friday afternoon I dropped him off and every Sunday evening I picked him up, until that sentence was served. It was something like 10 or 15 weeks.

At one point during this time, my daughter and I were going to the grocery store and she pointed out the window at the jailhouse and said matter-of-factly “My Daddy lives there”.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

It’s only one coin.

A little breath of fresh air on the subject, from Al Franken:


Almost every brown child living in a non-brown country wishes to be white at some point in their lives. We grow out of it, but there’s always that moment.

[hijack]I know this is not the place, or even close to what you’re talking about…but…I’m a white mutt living in the us (I even have a long lost thread about my daughter not having a culture here somewhere). For what it’s worth I envy those who still have a group kind of thing going. I have Mexican, Italian, Greek, Irish, Indonesian, Chinese, Spanish, German, etc. friends who have the whole culture bit going for them. We have none of that. We have a tradition going back one generation. How sad is that? Hold on to what you are. :cool: [/hijack]

This thread made me cry. It also reminded me of driving by a nearby park, and my daughter saying, “Mommy, I never want to go to that park again.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because that’s the park where Daddy took me when he told me he was moving out,” she replied.

We haven’t been to that park since.

I was with a friend at a work function for the law office she works at because her husband couldn’t attend. Her husband by the way is the biggest teddy bear you’d ever meet and wouldn’t hurt a fly. My friend goes chasing off after her 5 year old leaving me alone with her 3 year old and one of her lawyer superiors when I hear the following conversation:

Lawyer Boss: “How are you doing little guy?”

3 year old: “My Daddy punches me in the face!!!”

Lawyer Boss: “WHAT?”

3 year old: (With big puppy dog eyes) "I say NO daddy Noooo, but he won’t stop!!! "

Not funny at the time, and it took a lot of explaining.