Both of the kids said or did something mildly amusing this week, so hooray, they served their purpose in life!
Baby Girl —
One of Baby Girl’s favorite books at the moment is If You Give A Mouse A Cookie. It’s always been a household favorite, so I’m happy that she likes it as well. Her fandom means that I get to read the aloud book dozens of times per day (which may be a slight exaggeration, but let’s just say that I don’t need the book to tell the story).
After reading it to her a few times, I usually stop at a certain point on each page to get her to help fill in. I quickly found out what she thinks happens when you give a mouse a cookie or milk.
“If you give a mouse a cookie…” I say.
“He make a mess!” she exclaims.
Indeed he does.
Now for Little Man —
Y’all know that Little Man has his quirks. He’s my and Sam’s kid, after all. One of his deals is over germs. This started when he was about two or three years old. There are exceptions to his germ worries, though. For example, dropping a cookie on the floor gets a pass.
It started out by not wanting a kiss from his relatives when he was 2 or 3. “You’ll give me germs!” The top of his head was as much as he’d tolerate. If he even suspected someone took a drink from his cup or a bite of his food (which I admit would bother me, too), he’d trash it. So, cookie from the floor of Walmart? Good. Cookie his dad bit off of? Bad.
Recently at the doctor — which he hates going to because he’s scared he’ll get sick (or sicker, if it’s not a well visit) — he gave the nurse the third degree over their thermometers. “Do you even clean those things after each use? Are you sure? Do you clean the blood pressure checker? Who cleans these books? I’m going to get sick from coming here.”
Then we found out that not only does he have a hang up over using the bathroom in public places, he also has a hang up using the bathroom at home. He called me in one day because he needed more toilet paper (a ruse, as he really wanted assistance wiping, ugh) and I saw that he’d lined the toilet seat. He apparently does this all of the time now. I clean the toilets, y’all. But that makes no difference to him. He doesn’t want “butt germs” from other people. (Maybe I’m the inconsistent one here, since I’m fine with butt germs from my family, but not from the public.)
The latest thing he got weirded out over was when I baked a cake over the weekend. He was raving about how good it was and asked how I make them better than anyone else he knows.
“I make my cakes [using] love,” I told him, borrowing a line from my grandmother.
He looked alarmed. “Oh my God. What does that mean?”
Sam piped up. “That means she kisses every ingredient before putting it in,” he said.
I rolled my eyes, expecting LM to know better, but he didn’t. “You kiss things? You’re putting your germs in our food?! Oh my God, I can’t eat anything you make ever again!”
It took a lot of talk for him to trust that I don’t really kiss the flour or the cocoa powder or the chocolate chips or whatever when I’m cooking.
Check out today’s taboo word below. Visit Eric, author of the All In A Dad’s Work blog and creator of the challenge, for details on participating.