Monday, April 21, 2008

Before coffee:

Connor makes a flying leap onto Scott. Instantly I'm behind the curve, trying to stop the bottles from falling from the pyramid, ineffectually touching them on the way down: "Connor! Cut it out! Get off him!" It doesn't help that Scott loves the attention, loves nothing more than an early morning 'rassle'. It also doesn't help my immediate goal of him getting up and dressed so we can leave for school.


"Connor! I'm getting angry! Get off!"

Connor pulls away, then yells and throws himself back on Scott: "He stuck his finger up my butt!!!"

"Well he banged his knee on my leg!"

"Get off him!"

Connor heads into the bathroom to put in his contact lenses. "I wouldn't have jumped on him if he hadn't stuck his finger up my butt."

"If you hadn't gotten your butt in position his finger wouldn't have been anywhere near it!...Scott, if you had your finger up his butt you need to wash your hands!"

And that, my friends, is nothing anyone should ever have to hear themselves say. Fifteen years ago I could not have conceived ever using that combination of words.

I wonder if people with daughters have ever had to say that. I feel like washing my own mouth out with soap.


3 comments:

Lori said...

I read this 3 minutes ago and am still laughing.

You know what really bites? Having a son who LOVES to run his fingers through your newly washed hair (and you know where those fingers have been).

Still laughing.

Douglas W said...

The English language is constantly changing... 15 years ago we would have said something different...100 years ago... 500.. I thought I'd look up Chaucer and see what might have been said in a similar situation back then...

Oh Connore why dost thou compleyne and crye that Scotte hath yow mysboden or offended? Pray telleth me if yow were sittynge on hys hond.

And Scotte lene me youre hond…

...Ugh! Surely it is not a rose garland, fresh and wel smellynge and most nowe be washed if it were in Connores buttok.

And now, all be filthe that cometh out at mine mouthe and it shal too be washed wyth sope.

excavator said...

Lori,

Yeah, don't you feel like some sort of neurotic OCD personality-type with misplaced priorities when you see him coming, arms (and fingers) outstretched?: "STOP!!! First go wash those hands!!!!" Do you ever think to yourself, 'it shouldn't matter to me if I were a REALLY loving mother?'

Someday he'll be unable to run his fingers through his lady-love's hair without an inexplicable urge to wash his hands.

My dilemma is similar when Scott has just taken a huge draught of chocolate milk and then wants to smash his face into my belly for a GREAT BIG hug--and I've just put on a white shirt.

Doug--all I can say is, "BAWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

snort...

'...Ugh! Surely it is not a rose garland, fresh and wel smllynge and nowe be washed if it were in Connores buttok.'

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA 'Pray telleth me if yow were sittynge on hys hond'...

oh!oh--thanks for the laugh to start the day.

heeeheheheheeheeeheeeheeeee