When Beth was 3, we got her a chocolate bunny for Easter. Using parental skills that I apparently lost fairly soon thereafter, I doled it out to her, bit by bit, every day after lunch, making a (gross but anatomically enlightening) game out of it: “Today we get a bunny ear! Today we get a bunny foot!”
After a time, of course, we pretty much had bunny fragments left. One day, toward the end of this, I scrounged around for a piece of milk chocolate goodness and found a nondescript section left. Beth took it, surveyed the offering, and sneered as only a preschooler can sneer.
“What is this,” she said, “the bunny butt?”
Quick: Did you laugh?
Or did you just smile, or maybe nod, or maybe do nothing?
This is the problem with offspring wit and wisdom. Kids can be awfully funny, but it’s mostly contextual and situational (you sorta had to be there, I mean; and maybe be related to them). So I generally groan and/or avert my eyes when I start reading (or listening to) parents’ accounts of the comic gems their little darlings issue forth like so many miniature Will Rogers(es). It’s hard to do well.
This lady does it well.
This is (stolen from)The Drunken Housewife, a blog written by a smart, funny, insightful (and probably sober, although I have no inside information) woman in the Bay area (thanks to Hugh Elliott for pointing me her way) that I read faithfully. She writes about her life, her politics, her ongoing battle with the contractor from hell, and occasionally things her kids say, which are usually highlights (I look forward to my Lola moments).
And TODAY IS HER BIRTHDAY. So stop by and wish her well if you are of a mind. And definitely make her a daily read.
Of note: I’m horrible at estimating ages from sight, so I constantly find myself mentally adding up odd facts and references to try to figure out how old someone is, but with the D. Housewife I’m at a loss. She maybe one of us, an official uberboomer (making her at least 43), or well younger; I really don’t know. But I’ll let her in the group, officially or un-, since I like the way she writes. And I’m fond of Lolaisms.
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I’m having issues with time management lately, which is why I haven’t posted much lately (or that’s my story, anyway). Papers are due, I’m sucking it up and working for a living, chapters still need to be read, lame columns need to be written, and of course I spend an awful lot of time on the road these days.
The road that runs by my house, I mean. I’m up to 9 miles a day and becoming a walking junkie, but then I’m on a mission. And the weather is fabulous today. And I meet nice people on the way. And occasionally turn the iPod up WAY TOO LOUD to be safe.
But if you’re interested still in the My Loss Is America’s Gain project…
Forty pounds lost so far. Catch you at 50, if not before.
Probably before.
2 responses so far ↓
Bethy // Nov 20, 2007 at 11:08 pm
Oh how I distinctly remember the bunny butt days of yore…
Drunken Housewife // Nov 21, 2007 at 11:53 am
Oh, you are too sweet! THANK YOU!
Incidentally you are actually very good at the age estmating. I turned 43. I feel more like a generation X type due to the tattoos, but my work ethic was more of a Baby Boomer than that of a slacker. Technically I was born 6 weeks before the end of the Baby Boom.
And here’s a butt story: as an activity at pre-K, I decided to make a scarecrow with the kids. The quicker kids got to do the hands and face, which were more fun, leaving one boy moping. “Kai, you can do the butt!” I said. “You get to make the butt!” He suddenly became extremely involved and excited. “I’m making the butt! I’m making the scarecrow’s butt!”
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