Marlon gets hot and bothered by his daughter’s frankness.
Hannah and I have this habit, which was formed since she was old enough to fit into her car seat. We chat continuously while I drive. And sometimes our conversations are interjected by typical single daddy comments like “move your slow butt out of the way you moron,” or “woah what a yummy-mummy”.
I know, it's pitiful, but single dads don’t get much time, or even have much energy to date. So you learn to appreciate eye-candy whenever it comes your way. In my case it’s usually when I pick the kids up from pre-school. Recently, I fetched Hannah from school first, then we set off across town to collect Maddi from pre-school.
Both Hannah and Maddi are by now very familiar with the term “yummy-mummy” and while Hannah at age 8, knows full-well its meaning and the tone of my usage, Maddison is all innocence.
What made me blush unashamedly, and lose my gift of speech completely that day, is that she chose a particularly yummy mummy to embarrass me with. There is a young mom at Maddi’s preschool that literally causes all the dads to stop what they’re doing, stand quite still for the duration of her presence, and sigh a collective “hmmmm” after she’s left. The reason for this effect she has on all of us is the exquisite way her derriere occupies the lucky pair of jeans or dress she may be wearing.
On the day in question, I happened to slot in behind her en route through the security gates at the pre-school, holding Maddi in one arm and her bag in the other.
“Look daddy,” said Maddi, with all the gusto of a knowledgeable 2-year-old, “it’s the yummy-mummy.”
Somewhat pre-occupied with the Y-M’s sashaying posterior, I say “What’s that baby?” At this point Yummy-Mummy has turned around to have a look at what exactly Maddi is talking about.
“Here Daddy, the yummy-mummy,” says my daughter, complete with accusing finger pointing directly at miss fancy pants.
Instant dry mouth afflicts me, my temperature soars to somewhere between damn-is-it-hot-in-here and have I just descended in to the devil’s embrace?
Maddi giggled, clearly sensing my chagrin. Yummy-mummy, bless her heart, just smiled a knowing smile and made the whole thing go away in an instant. The lesson learned, and to be remembered by all single dads, is that kids really do say the darndest things, and at the most inappropriate times too.Do kids say the darndest things? What has your experience been with wayward words from your toddler?