Ain’t That A Kick!?!


Conversations at our house recently have become pretty racy and finally it’s not because of me! It may be because my son Azul is now six and understanding more or because he is in Kindergarten now and picking up things said at school or because he is my little clone and talking more and more like me every day. Oh, I guess it could still be because of me.

Well, whatever it is, it’s funny!

Last night, we were going through Azul’s standard bed time routine, getting PJs on, brushing teeth and washing his face. Unfortunately, it’s never as smooth as just getting those things done, there is always an addition of talking or playing or wrestling, and sometimes all three. This night was a combo of playing and wrestling. After the last of the toothpaste was spat out of his mouth he assumed an offensive stance and then attacked. With a jump and a foot in the air, he yelled, “I’m going to kick you in the penis!”

I was a little taken back by that, physically and mentally, but trying to stand my ground I looked right at him and replied, “I don’t have a penis.”  With my eyebrows raised, I waited for his response. Don’t underestimate your Mommy, I’m ready for you.

“Then, I’ll kick you in the vagina!” Now my eyes were wide open, I wasn’t ready for that.

His expression changed from aggressiveness to concern and he asked, “Do you have a vagina?”

I cracked up laughing and answered the questioned posed with a simple, “yes.”

Then shrugging his shoulders, he looked right at me and said, “I wasn’t sure.”

Then we both cracked up. Oh, my little clone, it is because of me!

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And The Award Goes To


Tonight’s plan is to watch The Oscars. Azul, my six year-old loves award shows, so we watch most of them together. Thinking about this reminded me of when this happened…

From February 24, 2013

We were watching The Academy Awards tonight and my four year-old was loving it! He was jumping around, laughing at the jokes and mocking the winners, but eventually, like all good things, it had to come to an end. Although the awards were still being handed out, it was eight-zero-zero and time for Azul to go to bed. With his PJs on, teeth brushed, face cleaned, tucked in bed and a kiss good night, in an Oscar winning tone, the last thing he said to me was, “Please tell me who the Academy Award goes to.”

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Azulism #18



The fascination of toots and poops for boys (and men in some cases) is absolutely beyond me. This toot/poop sound, for years, has been Azul’s go-to response when he has nothing else to say, it’s also his imaginary hand gun sound when pretending to shoot, and now a staple in his vocabulary. I haven’t really tried to halt this behavior, but I haven’t tried to encourage it either. It has left me confused and slightly entertained.

While sitting at the table last night, this was the dinner music my six year-old provided. It wasn’t the first time he had sung this and I am assuming it’s not going to be the last. And in all fairness, as gross as this is, he did throw in a little bit of politeness. Yuck! He, he, he…

“… gesundheit!”

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