It’s no secret that toddlers are always sick – contracting various and sundry diseases from school, the gym, the playground, the zoo, life in general. Which means, everyone in my house is cyclically sick because we are actively learning to share. Right now, we all have some variation of a cold. Or maybe it’s allergies. All I know is the temperature dropped below 90 last week so now everyone is stopped up, coughing and sneezing. My husband, Tye, has it the worst, of course. He is basically dying because, you know, “man cold.” Piper has been insisting on long-sleeve and long-pants fleece pajamas because of the wintry mix. She’s also requesting to watch the Grinch on repeat, because since it’s not 110 degrees, it must be Christmas time. Not yet, Pipes. It’s only Christmas at Hobby Lobby…
But with each wave of sickness, we rally and recover in preparation for whatever is in the air the next time the temp drops. Meanwhile, Piper seems to continuously suffer severely from one particular incurable ailment: Foot in Mouth Disease
When we go to Target, I give Nash an apple. He works it over for at least 30-minutes like a pugnacious piranha. One time, he polished off the entire thing. Seeds, core, all of it. The apple keeps him quiet and entertained while I grab the week’s necessities (light bulbs, toothpaste, throw pillows, pumpkin scented candles… you all know the slippery slope). This distraction also soothes his ever-teething gums. To keep Piper at bay, she gets a strawberries and cream frap from Starbucks upon arrival. I’m not super proud of this lavish bribery system, but you know the proverb: “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” She has become such a Starbucks pro that she now places her own order.
We went to Target today and promptly upon arriving, she walked right up to the counter and said, “Sir….”
“You have a big butt.”
Mortified, I pulled her back to me in a flushed panic and tried to talk OVER her “We’ll take a tall strawberry frappuccino AND THAT’S ALL HAHA THANK YOU” in hopes that the hearty fella missed her blatant proclamation.
As we waited for her name to be called to pick up her beverage, I squatted down to her level and explained in my best ‘parent of a strong-willed child voice’ that “You have a big butt” is not a nice thing to say. And she nodded with the look of pure, unadulterated understanding in her big, brown three-year-old eyes. Tiny win. I got through to her. The nice gentleman handed Pipe her drink and as we began to walk away, she stopped, turned back to him and said, “Sir… you have a TALL butt.”
And carried on into the store.
If you hear of a cure for Foot in Mouth disease, send it our way. In the meantime, I’m off to spank her tall butt.
To the anti-spank crowd: this is just a joke, be still.