What-my-kid-said Wednesday: marriage, according to Bean

After helping me make cookies, Bean sat at the dining room table, enjoying the fruits of his labours* with a glass of milk. He looked over at my rings, which sat on the table where I’d put them down before shaping the cookie dough.

“Mama, you should put your earrings on!”

“You’re right, I should put my rings back on.”

As I put each one on, I told him what it was. “This is the ring your Daddy gave me when he asked me to marry him. This is the ring your Daddy gave me on the day we were married, when we became husband and wife. And he gave me this ring when we had been married for five years.”

“I wish I was married.”

“Maybe you will be married one day. Would you like to be married one day, and maybe have kids of your own?”

“I think I will be married when Alex gets married.”

“Who do you think you’d like to marry?”

“Alex is gonna be a fireman marry, and Cooper’s gonna be a ‘struction** marry, and I’m gonna be… a ammamance*** marry! And Cooper’s gonna be a police marry.”

“Okay then, sounds good.”

“Cock-a-doodle-doo! Flying chicken spaceman!!”

20150305_215155

* labours = switching the mixer onandoffandonandoffandonandoff, not-so-sneakily sneaking chocolate chips from the bag, and asking to smell the vanilla extract.

** ‘struction = construction (of course)

*** ammamance = ambulance

What-my-kid-said Wednesday: the baddest story and the saddest supper

I made pancakes for breakfast the other day. Bean was excited, but on his way to the table he bumped his elbow.

“Oh, Mommy! This is gonna be the saddest supper in all the land.”

Bean loves stories. For the past month or so, he’s been begging me to tell him stories several times a day: every time he sits on the toilet (charming), and when he goes to bed. I’ve become a pro at thinking up riveting plots on the spot. But my favourite part of this new story-telling phase is that he’s starting to tell his own stories. Usually they are very sweet. Yes… usually.

Picture the following, told at high volume, with great enthusiasm. Also, Bean is a close talker, so he was right up in my face.

Mama I’m gonna tell you a story. This is gonna be the baddest story in all the land. It’s a… pushing down story! Okay. Okay okay.

Once upon a time there was… A GUY!! And another guy. Aaaaand… he PUSHED him down into the deep… dark… HOLE! And then he…. threw all the sand and dirt and trucks in and rode away on a horse and NEVER came back forever. And then he went to a windmill and [insert intense toddler sound effects and hand gestures] …. and… ate him all up!

Me: Um, okay. Wait. Who ate what?

Bean: The horse!

Me: I… I’m not sure…

Bean: It’s a bad story. It’s a pushing down hitting story.

Should I be worried?

What-my-kid-said Wednesday: keeping a record

20150114_193844

“I hope you’re writing this all down somewhere.”

My husband’s aunt said this to me this weekend at the last of the never-ending family Christmas gatherings, after listening to Bean say something particularly hilarious. I nodded, then realized that an unexpected impact of not writing so much over the past couple of months has been that I haven’t remembered to jot down the strange and wonderful things that come out of my son’s mouth.

I’ve never been a good keeper of records. And I have a terrible memory. Hopefully, when I’m old and creaky and sentimental and Bean and Monkey are grown, I’ll be able to look back at these Wednesday posts and remember a little bit of what my kids were like when they were tiny. So this one’s for future-me – not a specific conversation or anecdote, but a collection of common Bean-isms from this moment in time.

“I’m so incited!!” He says “incited” instead of “excited,” and I can’t bring myself to correct him.

“Tell me a pirate story…” Once upon a time I sat on the edge of the tub and told Bean a story about a pirate as he pooped. Now he asks for a pirate story every time he has some business to take care of on the toilet.

“Tomato down!” When something falls on the ground. I don’t know where this comes from.

“Everyone!” to get our attention.

“Hey guys!” to get our attention.

“I’m just a little sad.” Pronounced “yittle saaa-yaaad,” this one comes out every time he hears the word no, or is hungry, or bored.

“Oh man. Oh maaa-yaaan!” Said while crying, through his tears. This is his expression of real emotional anguish. You know, like if I said he couldn’t have a cookie, or something equally earth-shattering.

What-my-kid-said Wednesday: kidding

D: We should drive around and see Christmas lights one of these nights.

Me: Should we go to the scary Christmas house again this year?

D: Scary? It’s not scary – it’s just… a lot of stuff.

Me: Are you kidding me? It’s where Christmas nightmares are made.*

Bean: Mummy! Daddy’s not kidding you. He’s kidding he’s self.

Me & D: (laughter)

Bean: I not kidding myself.

Me: No, you’re very serious, aren’t you?

Bean: I not serious, I a happy boy.

Me: Oh. You’re not kidding, you’re not serious, you’re happy.

Bean: Yeah. And Mummy, when I grow so big I can go in a truck.

D: It’s always about the truck in the end.

Bean: When I grow up so big I can go in Santa’s sled.

 

*Seriously it is the craziest, over-stimulating-est thing you’ve ever seen. Giant inflatables loom overhead. Lights blink everywhere.  Every inch of the property is covered with wooden cutouts and figurines of every cartoon and fictional character imaginable, dressed in Christmas garb and Santa hats (from Alf to Mickey Mouse). They whirl around on miniature ferris wheels, go back and forth on slow-motion swings, slide around ice skating rinks, all to the eery tune of tinny Christmas carols and the creaking of rusty machinery.

What-my-kid-said Wednesday: more conversations

“Mummy, you know what I gonna be on Halloween next week?”

“Next Halloween won’t be for a long time.”

“Oh. You know what I gonna do on Saturday?”

“No, what are you going to do?”

“I gonna eat soap.”


“Mummy, you know what my water say?”

“No, what does it say?”

“It say… ‘I wanna eat a peesta!'” This is said in a loud growl.

“Okay. You mean pasta?”

“Mummy, you know what my milk say? It say… ‘I wanna eat a baby.'” This last bit is in a very quiet voice, eyes turned down.

“Okaayyy…”

“Aw, Mummy! I just goofing.”

 

 

What-my-kid-said Wednesday: one-liners

This is going to be a quick one. Monkey’s been fussy and drooling like a faucet all day, so that probably means teething, so it’s probably going to be one of Those Nights. On a lighter note, here are some of Bean’s best one-liners from recent days.

After climbing up on his Daddy’s back for a horsey ride around the living room: “Hee haw! Cowboy talk.”

In response to his uncle, who refused to change Monkey’s diaper. “Aw, man! No way. Not cool. Not cool, man.”

Today, in great concern over a case of the hiccups: “Hicc-up, hicc-down, hicc-up, hicc-down. I be hiccing up all day long!”

Bean