We pass this at least 4 times a week, going to and from preschool.
My 3 year old’s favorite new word is “Pumpkin-bum!”
My husband wants to make one and point it towards our favorite neighbors.
My family brings me such pride. Happy Halloween, folks.
So I’m at the pediatrician’s office on Friday, reading aloud to the boys from the book the 3 year old found in the rack…I was just going to throw this picture up on Facebook and leave it at that, but I couldn’t choose a caption.
Here are some thoughts on this literary jewel, in no particular order:
1. Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! On SO many levels.
2. Anyone still wondering why Dick and Jane seem to have lost their popularity? I would think it might be hard to sell a book that a parent couldn’t read to their child. At least, not with a straight face. Followed by a BS explanation as to why mommy is alternately snorting and clutching her gut.
3. Is this the way the doctor’s office staff entertains itself? “Hey guys, come here, quick! She’s just about to get to the good part…” snicker, snicker.
4. The authors – really? That had to be intentional, right? Could someone have written this unknowingly? It’s not like the meaning came about recently.
dick (n.) “fellow, lad, man,” 1550s, rhyming nickname for Rick, short for Richard, one of the commonest English names, it has long been a synonym for “fellow,” and so most of the slang senses are probably very old, but naturally hard to find in the surviving records. The meaning “penis” is attested from 1891 in Farmer’s slang dictionary (possibly British army slang). Meaning “detective” is recorded from 1908, perhaps as a shortened variant of detective.
5. The editor – yes, I know the book is about a guy named “Dick”, ha ha, and I know the little ones won’t ‘get’ it. But c’mon, buddy, you have to draw the line somewhere. A ‘big, big” line, in some cases. Though generally not on a big, big…forget it…
6. I was having lunch with the family today, and I was thinking about what I wanted to write about this, and apparently I had a weird expression on my face, because my husband looked at me and said, “What?” And I wasn’t sure what to say, because I could hardly tell him, “Oh nothing, honey, I was just thinking about ‘big big dick.'”
I know, it’s just too easy, right? So, go at it in the comments below…
You know those defining moments? The ones where you can pinpoint the exact time and place where you could have changed the course of events, if only you had done or said one thing different?
So we took my mom out to dinner for her birthday. It was me and the hubby, AJ (3), JC (14 months), Mimi and Papa. It was on the early side, seeing as we didn’t want strangers to have to witness the whole “adorable toddlers” to “ravenous wild animals” transformation that inevitably follows a delayed feeding.
In any case, the restaurant was on the quieter side, which made a lovely forum to display the three-year-old’s complete inability to modify the volume of his voice. The meal was coming to an end, the most eventful moment up to this point being the one-year-old’s display of apparent lack of taste buds…
…when AJ declared to his grandmother in not-so-sotto voce,
AJ: Mimi, I have a peen-uss.
And like any inquisitive preschooler…
AJ: Do you have a peen-us?
AJ: What do you have?
Mimi: (inaudible whisper in his ear)
AJ: Ohhhhhhhhhhh! Like Mommy!
And, because he believes in being thorough…
AJ: Papa, do you have a peen-us?
Me: (snickering behind a napkin)
AJ: DADDY! Do YOU have a PEEN-US!?!
Daddy: Yes, AJ.
Me: (snicker, snort)
And though the hostess, waitress, and other diners all seemed as more amused than offended, we drew the line (and very shortly thereafter, his drawstrings) as he grabbed for his waist and sang out…
AJ: Mimi, I’m a boy! I have a peen-us! Wanna see?
And the moral of the story is:
The next time a three-year-old follows you into the bathroom and asks, “Why you not stand up?” as you as you’re taking a leak, instead of answering with “Because I don’t have a penis,” keep in mind where that conversation may lead, and consider sticking with “Trust me kid, it’s just easier.”
Or maybe I should just say…
The “peen-us”: what a mighty word…