There’s a Jewish Proverb that says, “A mother understands what a child does not say”. I think this might apply to me. Especially since I don’t understand what my kids are saying when they do speak! Case in point, this morning. My little girl (who is 2, mind you) comes up and announces, “I HATE MY BUTT! IT’S SALTY!”
I said nothing, assuming the face I was making said enough.
“WILL YOU TISS IT?”
Apparently she didn’t get my confused face. “You want me to kiss your butt?”
She shakes her head. “YIP! IT’S SALTY.”
“I’m not sure I want my first taste of butt to be a salty one, Sweetie. Can I blow it a kiss?”
Suddenly, she’s super irritated with me. “I HATE MY BUTT! TISS IT!” So I kissed my hand and patted her on the toosh and said, “There. Is that better?”
“YIP. NOW IT NO SALTY.” Well, thank goodness for that.
Minutes later, for some reason, it occurred to me what she may have been saying. “Laurie, did you say you hurt your butt and it was ouchy?”
“YIP” she laughs, “I HATE MY BUTT.”
Ah. I get that. It’s the universal language of women. Sometimes I hate my salty butt, too.