Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Firstborn discovers a new word

In our house, bedtime is an exciting time. It's exciting because the mere prospect of having to go to sleep fills both boys with a fresh burst of vigor and vitality. It's exciting because even though we've used exactly the same schedule for the last five years, we never know what's going to happen. It's exciting because it's bedtime, but it's not even dark yet - it's just NOT FAIR - Waaaaaah! It's exciting because no matter how much stuff the Beautiful Wife and I have left to do, or how vital those projects might be, there is always a notable chance that one or both of the boys will manage to Not Go To Sleep until eleven-thirty at night.

And sometimes, it's exciting for... other reasons.

Last night, Firstborn - who will turn seven in June - got out of the shower and picked out a towel with which to dry himself. The towel on top of the pile was the Cute Yellow Duck Towel, which has an extra layer of cloth in one corner; the idea being that you can sort of tuck that corner over the top of your child's head and wrap the child with the rest of it, thus transforming your little darling into a terribly unconvincing duck and probably setting off an hour-long temper tantrum, but I digress. Where was I?

Note: not my child.

Oh, right. Firstborn grabbed the Cute Yellow Duck Towel. He was about to begin drying himself off with it when he noticed the Cute Green Froggy Towel under it. (The Cute Green Froggy Towel is a slightly more elaborate design, but very much the same general idea as the Cute Yellow Duck Towel.)

Note: also not my child.

So, once he'd dried himself to an acceptable point, Firstborn hung the Cute Yellow Duck Towel on his head. Only he didn't set it so that it hung down his back, as is the usual practice. No, he positioned it so that it hung down over one shoulder. Then he scooped up the Cute Green Froggy Towel, and hung it over his other shoulder. Half of him was now green, and half of him was yellow, and he could see out of the opening between the two hoods.

...At which point he charges out of the shower, comes dashing into the kitchen, and loudly announces: "Look! I'm half frog and half duck! I'm a FUCK!"

I... I just... I'm just grateful that he didn't burst out with this in the middle of a grocery store or something.


  1. It's exciting because it's bedtime, but it's not even dark yet - it's just NOT FAIR - Waaaaaah!

    I suppose that's an advantage to being raised by night-owls: one never has to go to bed when it isn't even dark yet. (I did occasionally go to bed when it had stopped being dark, but that was only because I had ignored my parents' token efforts to stop me staying up late (they turned off the modem).)

    Perhaps he should be a drog instead. (Though I can see why he didn't choose to be a drog straight off, as it might get confused with dog.)

  2. We tried to get him to adjust it to "Fruck", but of course once he'd seen his mother's face he wasn't about to exchange his chosen term for something less... striking. "Drog" might work, though.

  3. Okay, how were you not curled up somewhere cackling with laughter after that one?

  4. HAHAHA! That is too awesome!

    (One Christmas shopping season, Cayman wanted the toy fire truck that WalMart had out on display in the aisle near the grocery section, and he screamed 'FUCK FUCK FUCK!' all the way through the store. I was turning red and repeating, "Yes, fire truck, fire truck, but you're not getting the FIRE TRUCK today, FIRE TRUCK, I know, FIRE TRUCK!" hoping that everyone we passed would get that he wasn't *really* saying 'fuck'. And then there was a round when Harmy discovered the fish aisle and begged for 'piss' all through the store.)


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