Either before or after this shot was taken, I asked “B” if she wanted to be a pole dancer when she grew up. She excitedly told me yes! And her mother gave me the death-stare.
It. Was. Hilarious.
I continued to ask “B” questions like that until she got smarter than me. She’s now in high school and taking classes like Advanced Rocket Science. So, no worries. She is definitely staying off the pole, Mama Mandi. (Until she needs to pay for Medical School. Mwahahahaha!)
Eventually I had my own kids, and you would think that I would not speak to them like that, but I did. They’re my kids and I can say what I want.
When Tommy was about 2 or 3, he already had a fascination with hot rods. Every time we’d drive past one, or more likely it sped past us, he’d throw up his little fist and yell, “FAST CAR! FAST CAR! VROOOOM!”
One day when a cherry red something-er-other roared by, he got so excited with his little chant. I called back to him, “Tommy, you like fast cars?”
He said, “VROOOOOOM! Fast cars!”
I laughed and asked, “Fast cars and fast women?”
He didn’t respond. I thought maybe he just didn’t understand the question…cause why would he? But when I looked in the rear-view mirror, he had this look on his face as if he was seriously contemplating it. Then, “No. No fast women. No thank you.”
I laughed so hard I nearly wrecked the car!
5 years later, I can tell you, we have come a long way. I have learned to stop saying those kinds of things to my impressionable children, and they have learned to just come up with their own horrifying statements.
While sitting in traffic tonight, a 20-something-year-old woman crossed the street in front of us. Tommy leaned forward and gasped, “Oh my goodness! A jay-walker! I cannot believe she is just jay-walking in front of everyone. Do you see that?”
Perhaps I’ve kept him a little too sheltered? Or maybe this is kind of testament to the city I live in and our practically non-existent crime rate, but it cracks me up that he’s so very shocked at the sight of someone crossing the street in the wrong spot.
“Yep, I see that. Where are the cops when you truly need them, huh?”
He ignores me, his eyes still on the girl. She has now made it across the street and is heading towards a gas station, strangely enough, and he says, “She is a baaaaaad girl…and I like it.”
I cried so hard I nearly wrecked the car! (Well, maybe just on the inside.)
I can’t believe this is where we’re headed. What’s next? Jay-walking in front of God and everybody. Lord, if this is how he is at 8, just imagine 18?
I think I just gave myself an ulcer.
And I think I owe Mandi an apology. Love you, girl!
Thanks for reading!