In today's edition of Things My Kids Say, we have what I like to call "Bible Lessons with Toddlers." It's amazing what this kid learns at church... Virgil: Mommy, I learned at church that Noah was swallowed by a bear. Me: No, son, Noah built a boat, Jonah was swallowed by a whale, and David killed a bear. Virgil: No, mommy, Noah was swallowed by a bear. And when I was a boy, I was swallowed by a bear, too. But Spider Man came to save me and when he did I said, "Thank you! Thank you, Spider Man." There
Well, I learned something today. Apparently my son already knows about the birds and the bees. And I've just been schooled on exactly how I ended up with my children. Virgil: Mom, did you know that we are your presents? Me: Yes, I did! You are a gift from God! Virgil: Yes! God wrapped us up in pretty boxes and He put ribbons on them. And then he gave the boxes to Jesus and Jesus got in his car and brought us to you! Me: You know son, you're absolutely right! Lesson: learned. Whew. I'm glad that talk is out
My son is more clever by the day. I have officially been bested by a three year old... Virgil: Mom, I'm thirsty. Me: Okay, buddy. I'll make you some water. Virgil: I don't like water. Me: Well water is very important to drink everyday. Virgil: Well then why don't you drink water and I'll drink some juice? That's the plan, ok? Me: *shaking my head and wondering where I got this child...
My son has a problem interrupting these days. I'm aware it's an epidemic among three year olds, but it's annoying so I'm trying to end the habit. I told him today that if he needs to talk, he can tap a grown up on the arm and say, "Excuse me." While I was in the middle of my speech on the importance of not being interrupted, I was interrupted with... Virgil: Umm, excuse me. Me: Yes, son. What do you need to say? Virgil: Ummm... Ummmm... Umm... Ummmmm... Ummmm... Umm... Ummmmm... I... I need to... I need to... Ummm... Talk.
Today's Edition: Toddler grocery lists. This boy knows how to entice a mom (notice the strategic placement of vegetables on the list). This boy has my number... Virgil: Mommy, I want to go to Walmart. Me: You do? What for? Virgil: I need groceries. Me: What groceries do you need? Virgil: Bread, Ice Cream, a Monster Truck and Peas. Me: Well son, sounds like you've got your priorities straight.
Sometimes, a doctor's gotta go too... Virgil: (Wearing his stethoscope) Mommy, I'm a doctor! Me: You are? Virgil: Yes, it's time for your check up! Me: Okay! Virgil: You are doing great! (a few seconds later...) I need to tinkle!!! The doctor needs to tinkle!!! Me: Okay, buddy. Virgil: Can you say, "Okay, Dr. Virgil?" Me: Yes, Dr. Virgil. I've never had to help my doctor go pee before, but I suppose there really is a first time for everything.
Phrases I have heard so far tonight: "Mommy! I'm putting milk in baby sister's hair!" "Can I put this 18 wheeler in the fish tank?" "Look mommy! I brought you a rock!" "Mommy, I'm making a mess!" "Mommy, can I have a chocolate vegetable?" Needless to say, it's only 6:45 and I'm READY for bed time.
Sometimes, no let me correct that, all the time, my son who is now three wants to relay what he's seeing, saw, has ever seen, or plans to ever see, many times, all throughout the day. It's a lot like listening to a techno song remix - one incessant replay of the same dang phrase over and over again thrown on top of a beat bed that's also incessantly repetitive and trite. Not that I don't love my son's stories and all... But as of late he's taken to combining everything he's seen and done through the day into one
My mother always said, "Little pictures have big ears." I never understood that until I had children of my own... Virgil: Mommy, that is cray cray. Me: Virgil, let's not say "cray cray." It's not very nice. Virgil: But daddy says "cray cray!" Me: I know, but daddy is teasing when he says it. And he shouldn't say it either. Virgil: Okay, mommy. What the heck? Me: Virgil! We can't say "what the heck" either! It's not nice to say things like "what the heck" and "cray cray." Virgil: Okay mommy. It's not nice to say "beautiful, beautiful, beautiful" either.
Watching TV with your kids is a learning opportunity. No, not for them. For you. Virgil: Mommy, look at that rocketship! Me: That's not a rocketship, thats a zeppelin. Virgil: No, that's a rocketship. Me: It's called a zeppelin. It looks like a rocketship, doesn't it? Virgil: No, that's a rocketship. I know about rocketships... and puppets. Touché son, touché.
It would seem we have had yet another miracle in our house, for as I was doing a little work this morning, Virgil was quietly playing in the living room. I look over to see him eating a cookie (which I did not give him). So I asked him, Me: Where did you get that? Virgil: Jesus. A miracle, indeed.
Of course, the moment I stick my hands in cookie dough to mix it up, my son yells, "I need to tinkle!" So I decide to brave it and tell him he can go by himself (normally I help make sure he pulls his pants down far enough, aims properly, etc.). When I'm done mixing the dough, I head to the bathroom to check on progress. I hear him flush on my way there and arrive to see that he has successfully used the toilet without making a mess of himself or it. So I exclaim, Me: Good job, buddy!
As with most children, there has been a learning curve teaching my son the importance of modesty. He tends to be an exhibitionist around the house. Thus I have taken to telling him that nobody wants to see his business. Perhaps, in light of the following conversation, I should be a little more specific... Virgil: (After using a toy screwdriver on the wall) Mommy! The house is fixed! Me: Thank you! Great job! You must be a handyman! Do you work for Handy Manny? Virgil: No. Me: Oh! Well then you must have your own business! Virgil: Mommy, nobody wants
Me: Good job, buddy! You put a pickle on the potty! (He calls poopoo "pickles.") Virgil: I did! It's a big, sliding pickle! Me: What's a sliding pickle? Virgil: Jake and the Neverland Pirates slide like a pickle! ...Perhaps I should pay more attention to Jake and the Neverland Pirates...