Portland can be a cold and rainy place, but even when we visit grandma and grandpa we need to make sure we get the boys out to run off some of their energy. Indoor play spaces can be a life saver. As the boys climbed the tube slides and ladders, Little Dog found a cute little girl to play with while his brother focused on the video games.
After a few trips up and down the slide with this girl an even younger boy started to follow and to some extent bother Little Dog. When he came out of the slide, the littler boy was right behind him, kicking him. The next trip down, Little Dog came right over to me to complain.
"I don't like that boy. He's kicking me," he said expecting me to take action.
"Well, let him go down the slide before you," I offered.
He thought about this then offered another bit of information. "He's a little boy who says 'fuck.'" Little Dog said this seriously but not provocatively, as though this shocking tidbit was just another observation about the child's behavior
"Hey, we don't use that word!" I reminded him, hoping he wouldn't call me on that half truth. The me half of we does say it when I slip up, but the him half sure doesn't.
"It is a very bad word and I don't ever want to hear you say it, no matter what this little boy says or doesn't say," I said in my best stern mommy voice. I don't use this voice often so his eyes got wide and he nodded solemnly in agreement.
"Now why don't you go play with your little friend. Maybe just steer clear of that little boy," I suggested trying to get him off and going on something new.
And I thought that was the end of that. Or at least I did until Little Dog started talking to his new friend he'd been playing with. As they walked back toward the slide, Little Dog looked at her, shaking his head slightly and said with genuine bewilderment in his voice, "I don't even know what 'fuck' means!"
Pasta ala Fridge
5 years ago