My Joey

My youngest son is well, let's just say, special. I have talked before about the lovely things he says here.  He just says whatever he is thinking. He has no filter and doesn't understand the concept of things being rude or what "private family" things means. Once he starts, there is little you can do to stop him.

He brings a whole new meaning to the phrase kids say the darnedest things. 



I head up to bed last week around midnight and within a few minutes my bedroom door creaks open and Joey comes stumbling in. I instantly go through the checklist of things that might bring him in. Do you feel sick? Did you pee your bed? Are you wheezy? Did you have a bad dream? It is mostly, always, one of these things prompting the visit.

This night he said he couldn't sleep. Since Jason was still downstairs watching TV I told him he could climb in to his Dad's spot in the bed and snuggle until Jay came up.

Just when I start to lull off to sleep this conversation takes place.

Mom, I saw this medicine on TV that you can take to help you get pregnant. It can even help you have two babies, which means you could have a baby brother and a baby sister growing in your belly at the same time.

What? Honey, there is no medicine to give Mom's babies. I already told you, bud, we aren't going to have a baby brother or sister.

I really want a baby brother and sister, Mom.

Why don't you snuggle up with me and let's get some sleep?

*He scooches over closer to me and snuggles up. I still can't believe he is talking to me about getting pregnant.*

I don't know what I am going to do when you are too big to snuggle with me.

I will always snuggle you mom. Although this is another reason you should take that medicine and have another baby.

Touche, child, touche. Also, I am pretty sure we are done taking that medicine around these parts.

It was only a day or two later that I overhear him talking to an HVAC guy we had in the house. I was carrying groceries in so I was going in and out of the house. On one of my trips in, I hear this....

I clog to toilet.

Oh no, I hope you don't put toys and stuff in the toilet. That's not good.

No! I don't put toys in the toilet, I clog it with my huge poops. My mom says I poop like my dad! 

He was so proud to be telling the guy this that as I was dropping dead from embarrassment in the kitchen, I just couldn't bust in and ruin his proud moment. The kid works hard for those poops, after all.

Needless to say, we have been talking alot about what we say to strangers and what is considered private family talk. I also asked him to never talk to me about getting pregnant again. It creeped me out and I clearly need to start paying closer attention to the day time TV he is watching. He'll be asking me about ovulating next.

0 comments:

Post a Comment