Friday, August 10, 2007

Things that Make Me Queasy

The imps and I were walking from the car to the hardware store, when girl.imp had to ask about 'life changes.' Of course, we were walking within earshot of others.

g.imp: (pulling on her shirt) daddy? Am I growing boobies?
me: uh, no.
(Of course, this is the type of anti-testosterone induced conversation that I really need to get me in the mood for a trip into the hardware store)
g.imp: oh. Mommy thinks I'm growing boobies.
g.imp: daddy? when you were a boy, uh, I mean when you were younger and were about to be a teenager, did your ping-ping bleed.
me: uh, no.
(Of course you know what I'm thinking here, don't you? I'm thinking I just can't catch a break, where is wife.imp when you really, really need her to be around? I also had the remaining conversation in my head:
me: boys don't have that problem
g.imp: what problem is that?
me: boys don't have to worry about all that leaking. It's much more fun being a boy.
g.imp: what leaking
me: well girls are always leaking some kind of fluid from thier bodies--from their eyes, nose, mouth and other areas.
g.imp: like bleeding from their ping-pings?
me: yep that's why God gave y'all pantie shields and boobie shields.
g.imp: my boobies are going to leak?
me: yep.
g.imp: why?
me: I don't know. My boobies don't leak. Go ask your mother.)

So we're eating spaghetti for dinner and b.imp decides to sit next to me on the couch (our dining table is currently fix-it central for all the home improvement projects I have ongoing ) and decides he wants to rest his legs across my lap. unfortunately that is where my plate of boiled noodles in red sauce was currently sitting.

I do need to state here-and-now that if anyone touches my food, I am likely not to finish it. I sometimes think there is a therapist out there whom is pining away, trying to find the money to send his/her kid(s) to an Ivy League university. I sometimes feel guilty that I am hoarding my quirky behaviour and not doing more to help the younger generation realize their collegiate dreams.

So why am I so adverse to resuming feeding upon food someone else samples?

Let's go back to my formative school years:

During my youthful days as an outsider in a small town (ok it's almost 30 years later and we are still outsiders) I used to get offers from 'acquaintances' to finish food (sloppy joe sandwiches or hamburgers that did not pass the 'sniff test' or soda pops). I learned early that these folks were not passing on these tasty treats out of kindness. No, they were also passing on snacks that had the added bonus of being coated with thier own, personal seasoning (re: spit, boogers etc...). So, in order to end the standoff (everyone nearby was all smiles and urging me to take the proffered snacks), I would take the offering and walk to the nearest trash bin and dump it.

Enough of the flashback.

Pulling boy.imp's foot out of my dinner, I decided I was no longer hungry.

me: yuck! I don't think I can eat anymore.
w.imp: It was just his ankle! You big wimp!
me: no, it was his foot -- his whole foot.
w.imp: come on, it was not that bad!
(her expression was also blatantly chastising me: 'I cannot believe you are about to waste all that food! It's not like he stood on the middle of your plate! Just sack it up and eat!!)
me: (after taking a bite) All I can taste is foot...


Maria said...

I find it sort of odd that Liv is eight and I have NEVER had a conversation with her about leaking or breasts, whatever.

She has never asked and I am fervently hoping that she never does.

That is the sort of stuff she can just talk about with her therapist when she goes in to talk about her mother......

Noe said...

Nicole doesnt like taking showers, so when it's her day to take showers i have to get in the shower with her. I wear my bras and panties... i have even got with my shirt and panties, but one day she asked me if she was gonna get 'that' (pointing to my boobs) when she grew up. i just told her: go ask your mom... it was kind of stupid, but it was funny how she asked me and not her own mom. and she's only 4.

dennis said...

Maria: I would not worry until she invites you to join her in a therapy session. I would suggest being mildly sedated -- perhaps with Vodka Tonics before going...

Noe: LOL! You could have told her that yes, with enough mosquito bites you could get...

Well, I'll problably end up like Maria, in joint therapy sessions with my imps..