We have officially entered the phase where Little Man is embarrassed by his parents. Or at least me, anyway, and it’s so not for a reason I would’ve expected.
Lately he’s been talking about how corny everyone is. He regularly reports all of the corny puns or comments his teachers make. “Mrs. L said, ‘Full steam ahead, class!’ in STEAM today. Can you believe that? That is so corny. I just shook my head.”
A couple days ago, he had to use crutches because of a nerve problem that was making it hard for him to walk on his left leg. One of his teachers came out to talk to me about it while I waited in the car rider line and told me how she had asked what happened. She said that when he led up with, “I went to the doctor…” that she interjected with a joke, “And did he say ‘no more monkeys jumping on the bed?'” She said he didn’t get the joke (which sometimes happens because he’s so literal, which we have talked about before) and she had to explain that she was referencing the 5 Monkeys rhyme.
After LM came out and we left, I mentioned that the teacher stopped by to chat and then he launched into telling me about how she made the corniest joke at recess about his leg. “…and she said, ‘And did he say ‘no more monkeys jumping on the bed?'” Can you believe that, Mom? I just stared at her in disbelief that she would say something so corny.” Oh dear.
Today I was told how corny I am.
“Ugh…Mom…it’s so corny when you say that your food is good,” he told me after we left the restaurant we had an early dinner at.
“What?” I was confused. What’s wrong with saying that your food is good?
“It’s just…when the waitress asked how your food was, you said it was really good.”
I still did not see the problem.
“If you can’t see how corny that is, then I don’t know what to tell you,” Little Man said.
I really thought he was bullshitting me at first, but no.
“The waitress asked how the food was. The food was good. I told her so. How on earth is this a negative thing?”
“It’s just corny! You said it was good with voice.”
Fucking hell. “What kind of voice?”
He copied me. “It’s really good!” he said in what seemed to be a happy, polite tone, which is exactly the way you’d act if your food was good and you were enjoying it.
“It’s just corny,” he reiterated.
“How could I have expressed that the food was good in a less corny way?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Just not like that.”
“So…was that as corny as you talking about ‘getting rekt’ all the time?” I asked. Boom. Roasted.
“Hey! No one thinks ‘rekt’ is corny,” he protested.
“Oh, yeah, they do,” I told him. “Anyone outside the ages of 9 and 12 definitely thinks that’s corny. Actually, it’s worse than corny — it’s cringey. And dabbing is, too.” Boom. Roasted again.
He huffed. “Just forget it.”
Hopefully I don’t embarrass him with my politeness again. And hopefully he’ll stop saying “rekt” and dabbing 50 times per day. If that happens, then being told that I’m corny will be worth it.