in-a-pro-priate

Today, I took the kids to go swimming. On the way (not really), I picked up a car-less friend who lives on this little dirt road, among over-grown landscape and wild vermin. Sounds appealing, right? It felt like something out of a Flannery O’Conner story, minus the delusional grandmother and convicts. So, here I was driving and imaginatively immersed in A Good Man is Hard to Find, when I suddenly hear Blythe say, “f–k. f–k. f–k.” What? I turned around to see her pointing at her foot and saying in a songlike manner, “f–k.” So close, sweetheart, but not quite. Well, it wasn’t long before the boys (who love mocking her babytalk) chimed in. Suddenly, I had a chorus of profanity in my backseat. Lovely.

Yesterday, we took the kids to the park to eat dinner and play. In the meantime, Liam had to pee, so naturally he pulls his pants and underwear down to his ankles, arches his back and projects his pelvis toward the tree to relieve himself. Now that’s a dramatic potty break. But, this moment actually gave me flashbacks to last summer when Liam pulled the same stunt at the park. Only when he was done, he reversed the pelvic thrust to poke his butt in the air and poop. Right. There. In. The. Park. I had to call Mark to bring a brown paper sack, so I could clean up after my son. I would love to say this only happened once, but it’s enough for me to speak of it only once (still with laughter).  

Finally, I cut Liam’s hair. I noticed Liam had helped himself to some hair wax and decided he needed “spikey” hair again. When I quickly informed him that his hair was too long to stand up, he opted for a haircut. I obliged (but with sadness). You may also notice a small chunk missing in the right side of Liam’s nose. He tripped while jumping off of the big, red, concrete ball in front of Target, practically landing on his face. 

 

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