Horror Story
Occasionally when my seven year-old and I are playing, I like to sneak around the corner and hide. When he comes looking for me I jump out and scare him. He screams, I scream and it’s fun.
Azul was reminiscing, telling a story about me, his sweet innocent loving mother, being scary (that’s really more like it). Using his advanced vocabulary he chose the most frightening word he could use. “Horror” was how he described me.
“Mommy, you’re a whore!” Of course my first instinct was a terror, did I really hear what I thought I heard, and then laughter, because really, denial never works.
I did like his word choice, so I countered as clearly as I could, emphasizing the two Rs.
“It’s hor-ror.”
“I know, whore.”
The horror story was in full-effect, both of us giggling through wide eyes. Azul doesn’t know why, so he repeats himself for being rewarded with laughter.
“Whore.”
“It’s horror.”
“I know! You’re a whore.”
Him scaring me was just as fun as me scaring him.
I see London, I see France, I see Mommy’s … WHAT?
Ever since my six year-old has been wearing underpants, we also call them “big boys,” there has been continuing conversation about the clothes we wear under our clothes. I am not shy about running around the house in my underwear, and I’m open to Azul doing the same. He is very comfortable with his body (he’s just a little boy — an innocent, sweet thing) and I want to reinforce that behavior for as long as I can. So, it’s basically a free-for-all here, clothing optional.
A new conversation in our house started recently about American Horror Story, which my husband and I have been watching, starting with the first season. I know we are jumping on this bandwagon a little late, but we’re on it now, at full speed.
Azul became very curious about our newly found addiction to freaks on TV, because of course, he is NOT watching it with us. He knows it’s scary and inappropriate for him, and most importantly, he know there is no chance of him ever seeing it! But he does want to be able to talk about the fact that he knows it exists by interjecting the little that he understands about the show in casual conversation.
So, when you put all of this together, you get a typical underpants conversation with me making fun of Azul’s “big boys” and add in a little horror with Azul’s comeback.
“Your underpants are a WHORE!” was what he said to me.
Once I stopped laughing, I asked him to repeat what he had just said. Just in case I heard wrong.
I heard right.
So, through a giggling voice I asked, “Do you know what the word whore means?”
“Yes.” He responded with the utmost certainty. Then, with his best ghost impersonation continued, “It’s something scaaary.”
“Oh, Horror!” I repeated in relief. “I get it, my underpants are a horror, and they are scary. Yes. That’s funny. Good comeback. H-O-R-R-O-R.”
My real life American mommy horror story!