Every now and then, I just have to use this space to report on the silly things our kids say. Especially after this post. And, when I think back to the process of writing A Dozen Invisible Pieces and Other Confessions of Motherhood, the writing of the funny things our kids say was one of the more joyful elements of writing the book. (Believe me, there were plenty of not-so-joyful moments during the writing process…so I can still revel in the fun parts!)
Yesterday, while driving to preschool, four-year-old Landon started asking me about sharks. Mostly, he wanted to know whether or not sharks bite people and, if so, how big the bite would be and how much it would hurt.
I attempted to explain to Landon that even sharks, being wild animals, are typically afraid of people and would tend to swim away from a person, or at least, leave a person alone. Except for the rare incident of an unlucky Florida beach-goer who has a run in with a Great White. But, I digress.
Nonetheless, Landon persisted:
“But Mom! How bad would it feel if a shark bit you?”
“Well, honey, pretty bad, I guess.”
“Mom? If a shark bit a mommy’s nipples would that hurt really bad?”
Oh, good Lord.
Having breast fed all three of our children and suffered the occasional bite from each of them, the thought of a shark bite on that oh-so tender part of a woman’s body gave me the shudders.
“Yes, honey. I think a shark bite on a mommy’s nipples would hurt. It would hurt a whole lot.”
* * * * * * * *
This morning, while taking a bath and displaying the typical fascination with his own body parts (you know what I’m talking about. If not, check this.) Landon positioned himself into a full-on spread eagle position: arms and legs open wide, propped up on the sides of the tub.
With genitals bobbing up and down, riding the currents of the bath water, he caught my attention:
“Mom? Do I look like a steady statue?”
As I turned to look, he cocked his head to the side, silly smile plastered across his face. Frozen.
“Yes, honey. You do look like a steady statue!”