By: Amy Forstadt
I don’t know what mornings are like at your house, but at mine they can be a little chaotic. I’m usually grabbing my son Benjie and running out the door, late for work pretty much every day. I couldn’t figure out why until I realized there was some sort of family dynamic going on; one that was like a bizarro version of a wholesome tv show. So why not take a moment, gather the family around the hearth, and enjoy this week’s episode, where my kid learns an important lesson about sexual harassment: how to do it properly.
Cast of Characters:
Me: Your humble blogger. And totally innocent victim. I swear!
John: My husband. Equal parts metrosexual and smartass.
Benjie: My 2.5 year-old son. An adorable and precocious little sponge for information.
It’s 8:25 a.m. I’m dressed and ready to go to work. John is lying in bed (still, lucky him) and Benjie is climbing up on the bed, jumping on the bed, climbing down off the bed, climbing back up, jumping, you get the idea.
Me: (to John) Okay, I’m off. Do these pants look okay?
John: Sure. You look great…for 1996.
Me: What? These pants are new!
John: I didn’t know they still had a Le Chateau in the mall.
(I tear off my pants, frantically dig in closet for something else while clad only in my shirt, underwear, and shoes.)
John: (to Benjie): Look at Mommy, she’s a noonie!**
Benjie: Mommy’s a noonie!
John: Look at her noonie ass!
Benjie: Noonie ass! Noonie ass!
Me: It’s noonie tushie, Benjie.
Benjie: Noonie ASS!
John: Okay, it’s tushie.
Benjie: Ass! Ass! Ass!
Me (buttoning a pair of jeans): How’s this?
John: Much better! Now about that necklace…
Me: OMG! (flipping him the bird)
John: The finger, huh? Very ‘70s gesture, there.
(I proceed to flip him both fingers. John cracks up, proud of his own hilarity and, have I mentioned, he’s still in bed? Benjie tries to get his tiny middle finger to stick up, but to my profound relief, his fine motor skills are not quite that advanced.)
Me: Argh! I’m so late! Goodbye!
John: Bye sweetie, have a good day!
Benjie (muffled, due to the fact I’m carrying him under one arm and his face is buried in my stomach): Noomphie assh!
I’m hoping this scene makes you feel a little better about your mornings. Or at least didn’t make you feel worse. For me, I’m just hoping that Benjie’s not the the tiny delinquent who other parents fear when they picture their kids learning about “it” on “the street.” Then again, maybe if Benjie’s the one charging the other kids on the playground for that oh-so-scandalous information, I can rob, I mean take my consultant fee from, his piggy bank and finally buy some pants that were made in this decade. So it’s a win-win for everyone involved!
This family values moment brought to you by the Forfers. Until next time, keep your pants on.
*Very silly combination of my own and my husband’s last names.
**Benjie’s word for “nudie.”
Amy also has a podcast- The Because Show
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Originally published on The Seattle Lesbian
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