3yr Old
Mar 11, 2016 19:42:54 #
nuyalic
Loc: Lancaster, SC
"Look at that dumb fuck, Daddy," said my 3-year-old from his car seat.
"Where?" I asked. There were quite a few around us, he could have been talking about any of them.
"The white one," he continued.
That narrowed it down. There was only one that fit that description.
"That dumb fuck is dirty," he said. "Why is that dumb fuck so dirty?"
It was a good question, a question a child might ask, but not a childish question.
"Some are dirtier than others," I replied. "It comes with the territory."
We were sitting outside Starbucks waiting for my wife. We were passing the time the way men do, talking about our feelings and cursing a little - some of us more than others.
"Do you like dumb fucks, Daddy?" he asked. It had an added air of the rhetorical.
"I don't like being too close to them," I answered. "They are pretty fun to watch, though."
My wife returned with our coffee and took a seat in the car.
"Mommy, did you see all the dumb fucks?"
I knew that she had.
"Honey," she said with a straight face. "They're called dump trucks."
"Dumb fucks," he repeated.
"Exactly," I told him, and we sipped our coffee as he watched the last one rumble past.
"Where?" I asked. There were quite a few around us, he could have been talking about any of them.
"The white one," he continued.
That narrowed it down. There was only one that fit that description.
"That dumb fuck is dirty," he said. "Why is that dumb fuck so dirty?"
It was a good question, a question a child might ask, but not a childish question.
"Some are dirtier than others," I replied. "It comes with the territory."
We were sitting outside Starbucks waiting for my wife. We were passing the time the way men do, talking about our feelings and cursing a little - some of us more than others.
"Do you like dumb fucks, Daddy?" he asked. It had an added air of the rhetorical.
"I don't like being too close to them," I answered. "They are pretty fun to watch, though."
My wife returned with our coffee and took a seat in the car.
"Mommy, did you see all the dumb fucks?"
I knew that she had.
"Honey," she said with a straight face. "They're called dump trucks."
"Dumb fucks," he repeated.
"Exactly," I told him, and we sipped our coffee as he watched the last one rumble past.
Mar 11, 2016 21:21:46 #
:D :D :D :D :D :thumbup: Good one, brings back a memory.
When my little girl was about the same age, she had trouble 'tr' sound to and it came out 'f'. She saw a line of trucks going down the road and had everyone take notice as we were coming out of church. We all started to laugh except Mrs. Holier then thou.
When my little girl was about the same age, she had trouble 'tr' sound to and it came out 'f'. She saw a line of trucks going down the road and had everyone take notice as we were coming out of church. We all started to laugh except Mrs. Holier then thou.
Mar 11, 2016 22:44:04 #
Mar 12, 2016 06:23:43 #
When the 3 year old grew up, he became aware of congressmen and never changed his language.
Mar 12, 2016 08:34:31 #
When my daughter was 2, her favorite sandwich was Blow me and Cheese. Got some looks, but not from other parents.
Mar 12, 2016 13:13:57 #
travelwp wrote:
When the 3 year old grew up, he became aware of congressmen and never changed his language.
Well, not so 'aware of' as 'became one' and didn't need to change language. :wink:
Mar 12, 2016 17:12:29 #
Mar 14, 2016 18:55:37 #
strobe
Loc: Central Iowa
To understand this story you have to know that my name is Murray.
When my daughter was two she was out on the driveway behind the house on warm July afternoon and started shouting "BRO, bro" (Brother). My son was 10 and was "baby sitting" which meant that he was sitting under the tree reading a book and his job was to make sure she didn't on on the other side of the house where the highway was. (My wife was in the house taking care of what ever mothers take care of while husbands are away at work.)
He jumped up and ran over to see what was happening. My daughter pointed at the wall of the garage and a 'daddy long legs' was climbing up the wall. She was wearing a pair of shorts that barely covered her diaper and a sleeveless shirt. It might have been crawling on her, which doesn't hurt, but when they grab individual hairs on your arm or leg it feels funny.
My son explained that it was just a 'daddy long legs' and it didn't bite or sting or do anything else hazardous or hurtful. But she was all excited and didn't settle down.
Finally he picked her up and carried her over and put her in the tire swing and pushed her for a while. She wanted down and went to play in the sand box and my son went back to his book. He related all this to us at supper time.
A few days later, it was a Monday since my wife was doing the laundry. My daughter was standing by our back porch and calling "BRO bro" again. He jumped up and ran over to see what was going on, and my wife came around the end of the sheets she was hanging on the clothes line to see as well.
My daughter was just two so she hadn't quite got her mouth around all of the English language yet, so usually her "L"s came out more like "Y"s.
When my son got to where she was she pointed up over her head at a small critter climbing the back wall of the house and proudly announced "Murray Yong Yegs, Murray Yong Yegs"!
Not quite, but really close.
When my daughter was two she was out on the driveway behind the house on warm July afternoon and started shouting "BRO, bro" (Brother). My son was 10 and was "baby sitting" which meant that he was sitting under the tree reading a book and his job was to make sure she didn't on on the other side of the house where the highway was. (My wife was in the house taking care of what ever mothers take care of while husbands are away at work.)
He jumped up and ran over to see what was happening. My daughter pointed at the wall of the garage and a 'daddy long legs' was climbing up the wall. She was wearing a pair of shorts that barely covered her diaper and a sleeveless shirt. It might have been crawling on her, which doesn't hurt, but when they grab individual hairs on your arm or leg it feels funny.
My son explained that it was just a 'daddy long legs' and it didn't bite or sting or do anything else hazardous or hurtful. But she was all excited and didn't settle down.
Finally he picked her up and carried her over and put her in the tire swing and pushed her for a while. She wanted down and went to play in the sand box and my son went back to his book. He related all this to us at supper time.
A few days later, it was a Monday since my wife was doing the laundry. My daughter was standing by our back porch and calling "BRO bro" again. He jumped up and ran over to see what was going on, and my wife came around the end of the sheets she was hanging on the clothes line to see as well.
My daughter was just two so she hadn't quite got her mouth around all of the English language yet, so usually her "L"s came out more like "Y"s.
When my son got to where she was she pointed up over her head at a small critter climbing the back wall of the house and proudly announced "Murray Yong Yegs, Murray Yong Yegs"!
Not quite, but really close.
Mar 18, 2016 18:29:31 #
When my daughter was around 2 years old she had trouble pronouncing "fork". We were very careful around the grandparents to be sure she didn't ask for a "f@ck."
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