The little buggers are just so precocious. But watch out! Just when you let your guard down **BAM** they’ll leave you feeling nekkid as a jaybird on a pedestal in Times Square.
Never fear however. The tables will turn. Their teenage years are coming, and we all know how embarrassing parents are at that age.
In her scant first 3 years, my daughter has managed some surprisingly blush-inducing incidents:
At 1 1/2 yrs. she targeted a Muslim man at Safeway (complete with crocheted cap and robe) that we passed in the aisle and loudly asked if he were her daddy. I’m not sure who was more mortified; the poor man for being accused of fathering this apparently illegitimate child, or me. Ava was unfazed and had already moved on to demanding sweet potato Puffs. I’ll admit, I ran.
After I erroneously taught her the word “nipple” at age 2, she ran to me in the library, arms wide open for a terrific hug and loudly exclaimed “MOMMY, I LOVE YOUR NIPPLES!”. Needless to say library time was over.
At age 3, we were paying for our parking at the Buffalo Airport and the booth operator was a real haggard type woman (long scraggly grey hair, big hook nose, no makeup and sort of wizened). As the window went down the operator reached for the parking stub Ava loudly proclaimed from her perch “IS THAT A WITCH?!”. We really laid some rubber out of there.
And most recently she was traumatized when I was a few minutes late picking her up from storytime at the library, finding herself apparently abandoned. Later on our walk around the neighborhood pond, my little chatterbox engaged a neighbor: “Do you want to know a secret? My mommy left me at the library.” I’m surprised CPS hasn’t come a’knocking.
Oh and there are so many more. Asking the hubby’s coworker why he has such a big tummy, vociferously inquiring about a statue’s penis in the National Gallery of Art…
…but I showed you mine. Now you show me yours.