WTF Tapas

L demonstrated his lack of a firm grasp on numbers when he explained how he’ll always be older than S:

L: She’s only 2. I’m 4 now but soon I’ll be 5:30.

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Grandma recently took L to visit his great-uncle in a nursing home. It was time for weekly services, and L seemed puzzled by the congregation’s prayers:

L: What are they doing?

Grandma: They’re praying.

L: [Looks totally bewildered]

Grandma: L, do you know what praying is?

L: Yes, lions prey and jaguars prey….

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How boys play:

L: Here, S, take this magic wand.

S: ‘tay.

L: And this one is mine.

S: ‘tay.

L: And now… FIGHT TO THE DEATH!

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New mantra that I will share with L when he has a 4-year-old son (assuming we both live to see the day, and that my mantra is true enough for some woman to have kids with him):

He does not have a permanent personality disorder; he’s just 4. He does not have a permanent personality disorder; he’s just 4….

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WTF Tapas

Turns out toddlers have Cockney accents. Mine does anyway. This is most commonly expressed in that she now runs around saying “‘appy!” all day long. It’s clear that she means ‘happy.’ People she says this to think it’s adorable that this little child is telling them that she’s happy. She says it to check-out workers, random passers-by, just about everyone she sees. Only I know the true meaning. That is, she is not informing people of her pleasant disposition, rather she is demanding that they sing “If You’re Happy and You Know it,” her favorite song.

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For those of you who missed the Facebook post about this, I think it bears repeating. Yesterday I took L to Old Navy. Normally, I try not to take him anywhere that includes indoors/stuff he can ruin/other people/any waiting, etc. But he was in a sweet mood and we were shopping for T’s upcoming birthday, so I risked it. For the most part, he was good. So good in fact that I didn’t even notice that it was quiet for about 10 seconds while I paid for my items. Turns out, 10 seconds is exactly enough time for L to wander over to the mannequin family, undo the pants of the girl mannequin and pull them down. When I exclaimed, “L!” upon seeing this he simply responded, “I just wanted to check on her bagina.”

Words complete fail me as I redress the fake girl and get the F out of there.

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I’m now worried that L is a future adrenaline junkie and I’m going to spend my life in anxious agony as he spends his like those guys from Jackass. This worry stems from his love of ice-cold water poured over his head. I’m talking, ice-cold. For some reason, when T gives L a bath he allows this ridiculous activity. L keeps the tap on freezing, and continually refills a large container with the torture water and then dumps it over his own head. This causes him to convulse as  his body copes with the insult. As soon as the convulsions subside, he refills the bucket for more abuse. WTF?

These guys have mothers:

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WTF Tapas

L thinks the word “soaking” means “very.” It makes some sense, soaking wet does mean very wet. But he uses it in other contexts and I choose not to correct him because it’s too cute. “I’m soaking tired.” “That was soaking fun!” “These blueberries are soaking good!”

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I mistakenly and unthinkingly corrected L on something that could have brought me lots of pleasure had I left well enough alone. When I heard him singing, “He’s got the whole world in his pants” I told him the correct lyric is “hands.” Damn it.

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Lately L has been asking me impossible to answer questions. Real Mad Hatter stuff. Like, “Mommy, does 2 plus 1?” How do you answer that?

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