Mommy did you fart?

I can’t even begin to count the amount of times my son has said something that has left me wishing to be swallowed by the earth. Sometimes I wonder where he gets these things?

Well he has a whole gene pool to choose from but lately I’ve come to realize that he gets a lot of his antics from me. When I say that I’ve come to realize, what I really mean is that people point it out so often I can no longer ignore it.

See it all started when I was walking around at Belles Outlet one afternoon. Jon was three years old, and at this point he was not allowed to go shopping with mommy anymore after he threw a fit a Babies R Us because I didn’t have a quarter for the tiny carousel. This lovely afternoon Jon’s dad wasn’t available so I had to take the kiddo shopping. Jon wasn’t telling full blown stories at three but he’d say a phrase here and there. So I was walking down the isle minding my own business looking for some stretchy clothes to accommodate my still struggling post baby lady lumps when my lovely little cherub asks at the top of his lungs, “mommy did you fart?”

What? You’ve got to be freaking kidding me! No I didn’t fart but if I did I don’t want an all call announcement to be made about mommies flatulence! Fart or no fart, all of the outlet store looked at me as if I had farted because clearly children don’t lie and as perfect as we are, mommies do fart! Believe me I know I fart but that moment wasn’t one of those times, or was it?! Had I become one of those mommies too busy to realize she farted? I mean some of us miss or forget a period but a whole fart…nah, those things don’t just go without being noticed. After questioning my capability of gauging the pressure and air in my body I came to the conclusion it MAYBE wasn’t me, so I did what any logical parent would do, I accused the kid of farting, he giggled and I capitalized on his new found giggle guilt and kept shopping.

Then there is the time at Sweet Tomatoes when I asked my son to get me a refill and just as he steps away, I say, “not diet Pepsi.” He then waits to be what seems like 20 yards away to yell back, “regular Pepsi, I know mom! You’re not on a diet anymore!”

Or the time he was sitting across the table talking about how much he looked like his dad but he was fat like mom. It was an innocent as a matter of fact statement, he of course meant no harm.

My son is so full of energy I believe the synapses fail to provide him with filters and he just blurts random things and then realizes they perhaps lacked sensitivity or tact.

I, unfortunately have had my fair share of similar moments.

A couple of weeks ago we got a brand new puppy named Sunday. She is a chihuahua mix and from what I have read thus far, they can be pretty territorial of their owners. I am Sundays’s primary pet care giver so naturally she took a liking to me. On occasion if Jon or someone else tries to pick her up off of my lap, she will growl or bark. Nothing major just a warning shot I suppose. She is also a little dramatic and as of recently yelps if someone grabs her. Over the last few weeks Jon and I have been getting used to the little fur ball.

I occasionally leave the room for Jon to bond with her because otherwise she is all over me and in my face. Second week in I heard Sunday squeal maybe three times in an hour. She was super tiny and I walked to my living room concerned that something had happened. My son said, “I was just holding her.” I immediately frowned and said, “oh god Jon please don’t tell me you’re one of those weird kids that likes to hurt animals!”

Wow! I seriously went from 0 to a thousand. Luckily Jon chuckled and made some reference to Dexter (showtime, Michael C. Hall).

I on the other hand was mortified. Clearly not getting mom of the month for that, who says or asks their 12 year old that??! Me, that’s who. . .because sometimes moms say the dumbest things too!

Ps: no Sundays were hurt in the writing of this blog, or at home. Jon, Sunday and I are getting along famously!

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