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My Kids Do Stuff That May Get Me Beat Up Some Day

Unfiltered streams from a child's mind...

* This is one of my favorite musings from previous submissions *

One winter day, when he was three, I carried my son into a local shopping centre. As we approached the entrance, I saw a lady taking a long drag on a short cigarette. I moved quickly away from her before we were forced to walk through an ominous cloud of exhaled cancer.

I didn’t realize this, but my precocious son was watching her too. As I reached for the door, my son’s face looked across mine, and directly at the woman. He then spoke loudly enough for her to hear.

“Have fun dying lady!”

~ ~ ~


Same boy, same age, different mall.

I again was carrying my son, since he tended to drag his heels when we walked. A faster walking lady slowly passed us, and while she did, my son waved and said hello. Nothing. The lady did not respond. When she was a couple of feet in front of us, and we could now see the back of her head, my son spoke up again, again loud enough for her to hear.

“Yah, just keep walking lady!”

~ ~ ~

My daughter, the one I fear the most becoming a teen, disliked a parent/child preschool class we attended. She disliked the room, the other students and their parents, and the unqualified instructor. Nor did she approve of the mandated curriculum.

My sweet little girl did not appreciate a book the older female instructor was reading, so in protest, in mid-story telling mode, my daughter walked up to the instructor, turned, and farted in her general direction. She then nonchalantly returned and sat in my lap.

~ ~ ~

Clearly, I am a bad influence on my children.

I should consider tempering my outspoken sarcasm and Monty Python references with relevant biblical passages and age appropriate Sesame Street songs.




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