That’s Disgusting.

Ha ha!  “That’s Disgusting.”  That could be about anything, right?  Especially when I have a 4 and almost 2 year old that do something ‘disgusting’ more than once, daily.

My 22 month old says the funniest stuff I’ve ever heard in my life.  From the time she wakes up in the morning and immediately demands a “NINA!!!!!” (banana), to asking me for a “juke box” at snack time, a typical day with her is filled with hilarious toddler typos.  But her favorite phrase right now is, “Ew!  That’s disgusting!”  And the word ‘disgusting’ comes out all wrong….more like “disxgusxtig-a.”  Her sister, Brianne, and I are sometimes the only ones that know what she’s saying.  I’m quite sure of that.

So every time Lo has a ‘disgusting’ diaper or Brianne picks a booger out of her nose and wipes it on me, her little sister, her car seat, herself, her blanket, the couch….wherever….Lo says…”Ew, Beee….that’s -isgusteng.”

She’s also the first to call herself on something gross, too.  When she let’s out a burp at the table during breakfast, lunch, dinner…snack…eating fruit snacks in the shopping cart at the store…wherever…she’s the first to excuse herself.

“Essscussse me!  I faaahhhttt!  That’s -issssgusstengggg…..”  Good manners, right?  If we could only get burp and fart straightened around…can’t have it all, though, right?

Lo saw an enormous dead carp…belly up on our beach (ha ha…makes me want to sing the Pat Dailey song…)…and ran to me out of pure terror.  It was covered in flys, and her little mind processed that into something horrific.  “MOM!” She ran over and hugged my leg, then looked up and said, “Mommy that is so disguxsteng.”  Yep.  It was.  Now every trip the beach that includes sight of a fish…dead or alive…rotted to bones or freshly landed…we get the lo-down.  “THATS IS DISGUXSTENG!”

Ahhh, the things kids say.  It keeps me laughing, that’s for sure.  Like listening to Brianne (4) try to ask for ‘flip flop fruit snacks’ to eat after nap-time one afternoon.  Caught up in her own little tongue twister…she trailed off into full-belly laughter half way through…as if it the difficulty of the phrase crept up and tickled her from behind.

“Bee…thats-dust-is-so-siweee…” giggled Lo.

Lauren’s favorite is her Tinkerbell doll.  Drags her around everywhere, sans detachable wings.  “Tink-o-bell!”  The middle is a blur of mushed syllables, but she knows we know what she means.  Even when yelling it hysterically at the top of her lungs…wrapped up in a tragic outburst of sad panic after big sister dipped Tinkerbell’s head in paint.  Poor Tinkerbell.  In an effort to rescue Tinkerbell from her plight, Lo swooped her up and rushed her over to her baby swing outside.  Then, she just sat there talking quietly to her doll.  After a few minutes, its as if she realized the paint was not going to dry off and disappear, and she came sobbing to me as if her little world had melted down.

After I cleaned the paint off of Tink’s head, little Lo clutched onto her.  Big hugs for “Tink–ooooo—belllllll……,” even sopping wet.

The unconditional love my children possess floors me.  Even through broken up words and barely translatable phrases, they have no problems communicating their love.  Whether it’s Bri buckling Kermit’s seat-belt before taking him for a ride on her bike, or Lo shouting an “Oh, No!” of concern every time her Tink-o-bell hit’s the ground…they are constantly making sure everyone’s ok around the house.  Even me.

If they detect through a mangled facial expression while stretching that my back hurts a lot, they’ll rush to my aid. “Oh..no….Mommy…..” Lo will say with her bottom lip poked out, in a very high voice, heavy with concern.  Brianne will just smother me with hugs.  Such concern.  Such sweetness.

It’s just too bad that part of it all doesn’t translate over to the patrons at Target who become lucky enough to breeze by our cart.  Shopping time= snack time for my kids.  That means all in the vicinity become fully aware of how the snacks are being digested.

“Ups!  ‘cuse me!  I fahhttt!”

“That-is-so-disgusxteng!!!”

….followed by trails of laughter….

Happy Toddler Translating….

Megs

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