One of these days, we’ll all be old enough to go to the toilet.
It’s a sad fact of life that once you have kids, certain adult things go right out the window. Going to the toilet is one of them. In our house, everyone goes “potty,” including my husband and me. I’m not even sure I can say the word “toilet” anymore because I’ve been saying “potty” for so long.
We do not urinate or have a bowel movement anymore either. We have poo-poo or pee-pee. But that’s okay because nobody in the house has a butt. Somehow we’ve all developed tushies instead.
I don’t know where the baby talk came from. I had no intentions of using it with my kids, but somehow it crept in while I wasn’t looking. It all sounds great when mixed in with my usual swearing, I tell you.
What’s really funny is the fact that Cassie is quite capable of speaking and understanding long words. Lately, she’s been asking me if we can have a “conversation” together. That’s her choice of words, not mine. She sounds so adult when she asks this, but once I say yes, things take a turn for the weird. It goes something like this.
“Mommy, can we have a conversation?”
“Of course, sweetie. What shall we talk about?”
“Hmm… Let’s talk about eating people.”
“Uh, okaaaaay, what about eating people?”
“Monsters eat people. People are crunchy.”
“Who told you this?”
“Aunt Khaki.”
“Remind me to thank Aunt Khaki the next time we talk to her.”
“Okay.”
Of course, the conversation with Aunt Khaki isn’t that much more rational. And I have conversations like this all day long. It’s no wonder I think I’m going crazy.