Sunday, January 30, 2011

'Pwivacy!'

Boo, right now from the toilet: "Dad! My mom is cuuuuuuute!"
Hubs, washing dishes: "WHAT?"
Boo: "My MOM is cuuuute, DAD!"
Hubs: "What?"
Boo: "I'm saying my MOM is CUTE!"
Me: "I'm cute? Thank you!"
Boo: "Yes, you are cute."

I don't care what anyone says, that's a perfectly normal conversation to have while going to the bathroom.

1.5 seconds later:

Boo: "Dad, pwivacy!"
Hubs: "What?"
Boo: "I need pwivacy!"
Hubs: "What?"
Boo: "I'm talking about PWIVACY!"
Hubs: "Oh, you need privacy?"
Boo: "Yes, now come wipe my bum!"

The boundaries of privacy to a 3-year-old are very different than they are to the rest of us, apparently. The wiping of bums is simply a necessary behavior by which 'pwivacy' can still be demanded and attained. It's just science.

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While driving home today, Boo told me his "tummy hurt." I told him we'd be home soon and we'd have dinner. A little later he told me again with a little more urgency, "Who's gonna help me, Mom?" I told him I would help him. He asked me how and I told him I'd give him lots of kisses and hugs and make him some dinner. About 30 seconds later he began throwing up. It wasn't pretty. This (puking in the car) was a common occurrence when he was younger, but he hasn't done it in a long time. He couldn't catch his breath and his puppy next to him immediately became very interested in the situation. Gross, I know. I panicked. I didn't know what to do, so I sped past the car in front of me, screeched into the driveway, scratching the undercarriage on the cement and jerked the car to a stop (all of this in front of Hubs who was currently getting out of his truck, standing in the driveway, looking at me with wrinkled eye brows and wide eyes. Basically like I was crazy.) "He's puking!" I yelled.

After carrying Grey inside, stripping him down and putting him in the tub he said to me, "Mommy, are you mad at me?" Real nice. Apparently, I handled the situation collectedly and with composure.

"No, I'm not mad at you, silly! Are you OK?," I asked. "Yeah, Mom, I'm OK. Don't worry about me," he answered while pretending his GI Joe was cliff jumping off the side of the tub.

"Don't worry about me?" I thought. As a kid, I'm pretty sure when I got my Mom's sympathy I tried milking it as long as humanly possible. I'm pretty sure I still do, but not Boo. He's far more wise than I am. I just can't let him know that yet!

3 comments:

Alicia said...

Those stories are adorable. Grey is so lucky that you are writing them down. They are a hoot. I enjoy Brock's sense of humor too. Your family is so darling. I'm very sorry to hear that Uncle Monte is sick! We will put his name in the temple and pray he gets better soon. That must feel so awful to have SM.

Cristy said...

He is so wonderful!

Being An Allred said...

Poor baby I hate when my kids get sick. Logan used to do that all the time. Grey is so cute we miss him.

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