It’s been a really comical week. George is turning into this fabulous mini comedian. I may have stimulated his little imagination too much with our games that we play and he is coming out with the most bizarre and often comical things. They might not be side splitting for some but for me I am just in awe of him and marvel at what wonderful tales he will come to me with next.
We are raising George to try and be a well spoken, well mannered little man but no ones perfect and as much as we would never condone or teach him to say obscenities he has this week picked up a few choice phrases. Some of these phrases being more how you hear them rather than what he is intending to say but funny nonetheless. George lives counting when he is playing and observing things and his favourite pastime at the moment when we are out is to count each car that goes past us. However for each car that passes us he states “there’s one car”. Now if you say this out loud it can quite easily be perceived that he is saying wanker. Something that a fellow patient in the doctors surgery waiting room clearly thought she heard. As I liked her way whilst George was pointing out the window as each car went past, I felt the need to explain what he was actually saying. She found it quite funny and stated that she had actually been believing him to count wankers in the street below. Now I have a few choice phrases I shout at times of frustration, usually when I’m cooking or falling over something, both of which are a daily occurance. I’ve tried to make these child friendly since George was born but in the heat of the moment sometimes naughty words come out. As a result my child has now taken to occasionally repeating my blasphemous cursing. Whilst in the library, of all places, where you could hear a mouse sneeze, my child is scrambling around on the floor trying to gather up a pile of books he wants to bring home, whilst I peruse the children’s DVD’s. Struggling, and before I can offer assistance I hear him saying what sounds very much like “fucks sake”. Something I unfortunately use quite often. I tried to pretend he wasn’t but as people in the library began to look at us, I gathered our stuff quickly, checked it out and left. It wasn’t until a few days later when he was clambering out of our bed after snoozing with us a few extra hours in the morning, that he was walking over the duvet and blanket that had been pushed off during that night saying “oof, oof, fucks sake”. My sides were hurting I was laughing so much. I couldn’t possibly reprimand him as it was my potty mouth he had heard it from. Needless to say hubbie was not amused.
This week has also seen the introduction of shy, smirking half hidden face as well as hands on hips pouty, grumpy I’m not getting my own way face. He swings his arm when he walks with a little spring in his step. Little things that are becoming traits of his personality and that make me smile.
He’s also developing an imagination like mine. Coming out to the kitchen to tell me that “man get George” thinking I’ve either had an intruder or a poltergeist I got him to explain to me where the man was. To which he told me that he was outside the front door. This wasn’t the case.
He also told me in the doctors surgery that “ambulance come get George”. This is a world we rarely use as we refer to all emergency services as “nee nors”.
He is most defiantly a one in a million and becoming more of a character as the days go by. I’m sure my tales just don’t do him justice but it feels greedy to not share these wonderful moments.
Until next time……….