We were watching the Lego Batman movie tonight and Robin called Batman ‘Padre’. Ryan asked what the word padre meant, and I told him it means ‘father’ or ‘dad’. Ry stands up, saunters into the kitchen and says to Dave, “Yo! Yo, Padre! Can I have my snack please?”
This kid cracks me up on the daily.
He literally says the funniest things all the time.
Last time my sister and her family came for a visit, Ryan had a bad headache and was complaining on the couch, kind of crabby. I asked what was wrong and why he was so whiny today, unaware of the pain he was feeling. Ryan didn’t miss a beat and said very quietly and matter of factly, “I have a fucking headache.” You guys. I about died. Very quickly I said, “Ok dude, not a good word. Just tell me you have a headache, that is not an acceptable word in this house.” (LIAR, guess where he heard it from? No doubt.) I must say, I was impressed with the correct context. Sometimes you just have a fucking headache. I know, I know – I had to be a good parent and correct him, but it was very hard not to laugh. Judge away. Whatever, you have your issues, too, imaginary reader person.
He even swore when he was two and didn’t KNOW he was swearing. He was imitating Oscar The Grouch from Sesame Street, and was working on his speech at the time, which was delayed. He ducked into a box (they love those empty boxes, don’t they?) and covered himself up. Popping out of the box, which I assume was supposed to be Oscar’s trash can, he belted out merrily, “I’m Oscar! Oscar the BITCH!” I do not think he really meant to say the B-word, but Dave and I cracked up for hours, and to this day years later, we will still whisper it to each other when Sesame Street comes on the TV.
Despite evidence to the contrary, my eldest is not a foul-mouthed, swashbuckling pirate of a child. He is very sweet and loving. He wants to do good. He is good. After a day of preschool last year I picked him up, and we chatted on the short car ride home. “Mom, you know what? Sofia was really sad today and I helped her to feel better. I told her we all feel sad sometimes. I showed her Anthony.” I thought for a minute. “Uh, you mean empathy, bud? You showed her empathy?” “Yeah, Mom. That’s what I just said – ANTHONY!” See? He is just the best.
Ben also has a quirkiness that I admire, which is just starting to show now that he is approaching 3. Tonight we were all on the couch, messily strewn about and cuddling before bed. Ben lets go a very long, loud toot. Oh, a house full of boys. Everyone laughs. I playfully say, “Oh Ben! Who farted?” He looks around while giggling, then says “Benny Boo. Wait, NO – IT WAS YA YA!!” We all lost it, Ryan (aka “Ya Ya” since Ben could never pronounce Ry Ry) the most. Ryan’s sense of humor is definitely rubbing off on his little brother. They work well together.
I think it is so freaking cool when you can literally see your kids becoming little people, where before they were drooling chunky baby messes of squish. It is a bittersweet symphony, them inching towards their emerging personalities. And just so freaking cool.