My Son, the Sailor
Monday, February 4th, 2008I don’t have the energy for a full on post, because yet again, I’ve been sick. I’m finally going to do something about it — but seriously folks, I’ve been stuck in bed sick more in the past three months than I’ve been in the past 8 years. I’m tired of being sick.
So, this is the little story of bedtime last night.
After we ate, bathed, and storied with the boy. Duke looks up at me with eyes full of wonder and sparkle and says, “Mama, don’t say ‘butthead’ it’s a bad word.”
“Um, yes, sweetie, we shouldn’t ever call anyone a ‘butthead’. But where did you hear that word?”
(Now, I’m no saint when it comes to language, but I’m pretty sure that ‘butthead’ isn’t a word he learned from me.)
(ignoring my question entirely) “And no potty talk.”
“Ok, I promise, no ‘butthead’ or potty talk. What can you say?”
(hugs me so hard he’s nearly choking me) “I can say, ‘I love you, Mama’”
Oh yes, yes you can. I’m sure the teen years are coming for when I’m the ‘butthead’ — but until then, I’m loving the hugs of four and a half — the kisses however are a lot slimy.
(In other news, I introduced Prince to Uno last night. He was skeptical at first, then a competitor — complete with his very own victory dance when he beat me.)