All the Oooky Stuff In One Fell Swoop

Any of you that have children, know children, or were a child (that should cover everyone, right?) know that their little worlds are not always sunshine and roses. Nor are their minds.

Take my two year old son, for instance.

From the get-go, we have always been very upfront about the correct term for body parts. Okay, except I say hiney or bottom. Because really, who wants their child saying gleuteus maximus?

And, oh my goodness, those body parts become the topic of conversation very early on, don't they?

So.... a few weeks ago Adam's regular Sunday School teacher had the flu. He went to the class next door that just so happens to be taught by the Senior Pastor's wife. When we picked up, she told us what a good boy Adam had been (thank you, Lord!) And when she asked Adam who loves him, he sweetly turned his face up toward her and said, "Jesus does."

And then, we were not two steps out of the doorway when he asked me, "Hey Mom! Jesus have a pen*s?"

To which I lovingly responded without missing a beat, "I have no idea, son."

In addition to body part names, we've also taught Adam left and right. He knows which shoes go on which feet. He knows we take a left, a right, a right, a left and then a right when we drive to our house from his school.

Yesterday morning I was having a little snuggle with Adam. The clock said it was 6:30, but my body was saying it was only 5:30. Darn that daylight savings time. It may save daylight but think of all the things it doesn't save.

Sleep and sanity for example.

So, anyway, there I was, half asleep. Adam was contentedly drinking juice from his sippy cup.

Suddenly:

"Hey mom. I has a prod-lem wiff my nose."

"What's the problem?

I has a booger in my left nostril.

Go get a Kleenex.

No!

Then I guess you and your nostril will just have to suffer.

Okay!

And, since we're on the topic of body parts, I thought I'd let you know that I had a little "cosmetic scraping" done on my back and upper chest yesterday. Those years in the sun are beginning to rear their ugly head.

This was purely voluntary, I might add....but doesn't just reading the words "cosmetic scraping" give you the willies?

Cosmetic scraping.
Cosmetic scraping.

And then, to round it all out, I have my very first mammogram tomorrow morning. Oh my goodness. I'd rather go to the dentist.

Cosmetic scraping.

And so there you have it. All the ooky stuff in one-fell-swoop.

My life really is this exciting.

P.S.-- I wonder what Google search will lead some poor soul to this post.