Part I Part II
Swear of Mispronunciation: noun. A word that a child mispronounces, and ends up coming out as a swear word.
OK, I'm trying to tread extremely careful with what I'm about to say. It's funny, but hard to write (or read) without blushing.
The other night, we had pizza and breadsticks for dinner. I know, I know. Bad mommy. But stay with me.
Viking Toddler comes up to me (and get ready to blush), and said, "I found my d*ck."
"What?" I asked, wondering where he heard such a word. I decided that surely I must be misunderstanding him.
"My d*ck," he repeated.
No, that can't possibly be what he's saying...could it?
He walked over to the table, picked up a breadstick and announced, "D*ck."
Oh.
"No, honey. That's a stick. A stick."
Monday, June 28, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Indirections
Indirections: noun. Directions that make no sense.
So, the other day we left the monkeys with a sitter and took the fluffy one to get her yearly shots. All went well, except of course, she needed to be muzzled because she just doesn't dig the doctor's office.
Anyway, on the way out, I mentioned to the nurses that she had tear staining under her eye, and do they know what would cause that?
"We're just nurses," they replied. "We aren't allowed to give that kind of advice. You'll have to see the doctor."
OK, I wasn't sure it was THAT big of a deal, but... I understand that protocol is protocol.
A few minutes later, one of the nurses came to me and whispered conspiritorially, "While you are waiting to see the doctor, you can use an eyewash. It could be something in her eye." She proceeded to give me (give as in hand it to me. I had to buy it) a bottle of eyewash in a small box.
"It's like eyewash for people," she said, "but this one is for dogs." Remember that. It's important to the point of the story.
Sounds about right. While we are sitting there waiting for the results of the annual heartworm test, I glance at the instructions on the box. The first thing I see, I kid you not, is this:
Remove contact lenses before use.
Are you with me? And that wasn't the only instruction that didn't make sense. I was reading down the list and found that most of the instructions didn't actually apply. At least, not to dogs.
(By the way, it turns out it was probably dirt in her eye. All fixed, no vet visit necessary.)
So, the other day we left the monkeys with a sitter and took the fluffy one to get her yearly shots. All went well, except of course, she needed to be muzzled because she just doesn't dig the doctor's office.
Anyway, on the way out, I mentioned to the nurses that she had tear staining under her eye, and do they know what would cause that?
"We're just nurses," they replied. "We aren't allowed to give that kind of advice. You'll have to see the doctor."
OK, I wasn't sure it was THAT big of a deal, but... I understand that protocol is protocol.
A few minutes later, one of the nurses came to me and whispered conspiritorially, "While you are waiting to see the doctor, you can use an eyewash. It could be something in her eye." She proceeded to give me (give as in hand it to me. I had to buy it) a bottle of eyewash in a small box.
"It's like eyewash for people," she said, "but this one is for dogs." Remember that. It's important to the point of the story.
Sounds about right. While we are sitting there waiting for the results of the annual heartworm test, I glance at the instructions on the box. The first thing I see, I kid you not, is this:
Remove contact lenses before use.
Are you with me? And that wasn't the only instruction that didn't make sense. I was reading down the list and found that most of the instructions didn't actually apply. At least, not to dogs.
(By the way, it turns out it was probably dirt in her eye. All fixed, no vet visit necessary.)
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Night Confusion Part III
First off, you see the little follower tab on the right hand side, about a third of the way down? Do you see the number? 99. How awesome is that? Those of you who were here from early on remember when 10 was a huge deal. Now 99. You know what would be better? 100. Just saying.
Part I Part II
Night Confusion: noun. The state of mind of a child that wakes up only partially.
The other night, I was getting everything ready for Husband and I to go to bed. As I was sitting in the living room, finishing some last minute tasks, Philosopher Child, who had been asleep for a few hours at this point, appeared in the hallway. He stood there and just stared at me.
"Can I help you?" I said.
"cnigobesnow?"
"What? I'm sorry, I can't hear you. You'll have to come here."
He ran up to me and said, "Can I go to bed now?"
Huh? Uh... "Yes. You can go to bed now."
That's a new one. Getting up to ask to go to bed.
Part I Part II
Night Confusion: noun. The state of mind of a child that wakes up only partially.
The other night, I was getting everything ready for Husband and I to go to bed. As I was sitting in the living room, finishing some last minute tasks, Philosopher Child, who had been asleep for a few hours at this point, appeared in the hallway. He stood there and just stared at me.
"Can I help you?" I said.
"cnigobesnow?"
"What? I'm sorry, I can't hear you. You'll have to come here."
He ran up to me and said, "Can I go to bed now?"
Huh? Uh... "Yes. You can go to bed now."
That's a new one. Getting up to ask to go to bed.
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