My son is more observant than I was at his age.
The other day we were at a department store looking for a dress for me to wear on an upcoming occassion. My two younger sons were being bad so I put them on the floor in a corner near a mannequin display, where they could be bad in quiet semi-privacy. My oldest helped me shop. (My children help me shop by looking for things in my size. That way, they learn their numbers and the illogical world that is women’s fashion.)
After we looked through a few racks, Josh, who is eleven, said, “You can tell suits are for old ladies when they have, like, big buttons and beads.”
“Josh, I love you,” I said. Then I hugged him. Then, I whispered to him that he couldn’t say stuff like that too loudly, in case he hurt the feelings of an old lady who might be falling in love with a big-buttoned suit near by.
“Love bugs” is a euphemism.
There’ve been a lot of love bugs flying around lately. Maybe you call them something different where you’re from. Here, love bugs are those exhibitionistic little bastards who mate while flying.
“Hey! Love bugs!” yells Dallas, who is nine.
“They’re always double,” says Rory, six.
“Yeah. Mom, how come they’re always stuck together like that?” says Dallas.
“Because they’re having sex,” I say. (I’m honest in my motherhood like that.)
“No… they can’t be having sex,” says Dallas, “because their butts are stuck together – not their mouths.”
Ha! As I told several people today, I should have replied, “I said they were having sex – I didn’t say they were in love.” But, instead, I said something awkward about genitalia and then the kids remembered the talk we had a while back about the making of babies.
“Oh, yeah. Okay,” they said. Then a love bug couple hit Dallas on the arm and he said “Ew! Y’all get out of here!”
Hello… Cool people say big words.
“How do you like the low carb tortillas, Rory?” I asked my six-year-old son.
“They’re okay, but they have a weird aftertaste,” he said.
“Hey – how do you know that word?” exclaimed Dallas.
“Duh. You say it all the time,” said Rory, in this cold-blooded little sarcastic voice that’s surprising but not unamusing coming from his little first grader face.
“You were busted, Dallas,” said Josh.
I didn’t say anything, because no one ever likes my cooking.
