Every parent has a story to share about children learning to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth about something completely inappropriate — often very loudly and in front of complete strangers.
In the past few weeks, as my 2-year-old’s observation and verbal skills have reached new heights, I began recalling some of those stories — and wondering if there’s any way to deflect the looks sure to come my way when my child inevitably humiliates me in public.
I was reminded of the time I was in a packed department store and asked my friend’s 21⁄2-year-old daughter, who was experiencing a particularly painful bout of diaper rash, if she needed to go potty. “Otay, but don’t hurt me down there again!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. We headed straight out the door before someone could call child protective services!
A friend of mine said she’s pretty sure her toddler is setting her up for a CPS visit, too. “You can’t beat me. Don’t you beat me again,” the precocious 2-year-old warned her mother after getting a tap on the hand for misbehaving.
And if you don’t want the truth, don’t ask a preschooler.
When my nephew was about 3, I asked him if he knew who was who in a family photo — he pointed me out and announced “that was you, before you were fat.” What could I say? The kid had a point.
My friend’s daughter was also simply pointing out the obvious when she grabbed the breasts of her pregnant mom, who was wearing a red shirt, and announced to everyone in earshot at the zoo, “Mommy, you have big boobies. Your boobies are big and red.”
Then there are the cases of mistaken identity, so to speak.
A former co-worker was frustrated when he and his wife couldn’t figure out why their cereal-loving daughter suddenly refused to eat breakfast. After a week, they sat the first-grader down to get to the bottom of the problem. She finally admitted that she was worried — she had heard on the news there was a “cereal” killer.
When our friend’s newborn lost his umbilical cord, another friend’s daughter got in on the excitement of the visitors, running into the kitchen to exclaim to those who had missed the event — “the baby lost his extension cord!”
For whatever reason, some of the funniest stories seem to happen at the grocery store — probably because, if you’re like me, it seems to be where you spend most of your time.
One friend recalled how mortified she was when her 4-year-old shouted out at the grocery, and in front of her tee-totaling mother-in-law, “Look mommy, your Budweiser is on sale again!”
But my favorite anecdote came from a friend whose husband is an obstetrician. Running into a church acquaintance at the store one evening, the woman asked the 4-year-old, ”Where’s your daddy?,” to which the little girl replied, “he’s looking at ladies’ vaginas.”
I’m sure that story will be repeated for years to come.
After all, it was nearly four decades ago when someone inquired about my own father’s occupation. “What does your daddy do?” the lady asked, to which I answered, “drink beer.”
Kids, you gotta love ‘em — and you can’t duct tape their mouths.
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