MetroDad

It's Breast Not To Ask!

When it comes to pregnant women, my misguided attempts at chivalry frequently backfire.

Whether it's nobly giving up my seat on the subway or making friendly conversation by inquiring about a woman's due date, I've basically reached a point where I absolutely NEVER ask a woman if she's pregnant unless she's in the hospital, has her feet in stirrups, and the baby is at least halfway out.

Unfortunately, I somehow forgot to pass this important life lesson onto my four-year-old daughter.

Today, the Peanut had her holiday party at school. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Peanut beckoning to one of her friend's moms. "Can you come here please? I want to ask you a question."

The woman walks over to the Peanut, gently leans over and says, "Hi Sweetie, what is it that you want to ask me?"

The Peanut points to each of her hugely ginormous breasts and says, "So, do you have twins inside there?"

The woman is not quite sure she heard correctly so, to my utter chagrin, she asks the Peanut to kindly repeat the question.

Regrettably, the Peanut assumes that she is being asked to repeat the question because the woman is obviously hard of hearing. So what does she do? She stands up, explicitly points to each of the woman's giant breasts again, and yells out, "I said, you have two GIANT tummies! Does that mean you have twins inside there? WHAT.ARE.THEIR.NAMES?"   

Completely mortified, I quickly pull the Peanut aside and whisper a lecture in her ear about never assuming that a woman is pregnant. I don't remember exactly what I said but I vaguely recall babbling random things like "false assumptions," "macromastia," and "mammoplasty."

Of course the Peanut looked at me like I was totally nuts and went back to shoving a giant cupcake in her face. Meanwhile, I simply made eye contact with the woman and and gave her a look conveying not only my sincerest apologies but also my total embarrassment.

However, I've got to admit that it's been four hours since this happened and I've still got an enormous grin on my face. That shit is straight-up funny. I tell you, this parenting thing is a barrel of non-stop laughs.

Ok, your turn. What's the funniest or most embarrassing thing to come out of your kid's mouth?  Special prize to the story that makes me laugh so hard that Diet Coke comes out my nose!

Cherish Every Milestone: Whassup, Santa!

Part of the reason that I write this blog is because I truly love being a father and I get a kick out of writing about the lighter side of it all.

However, at the same time, I'm immensely fascinated by child development. I'm a firm believer that our identities are shaped not only by the sum of our life experiences but also by how we deal with them. That's why when the BossLady's father was passing from cancer and the Peanut was facing things a three-year-old should never have to face, I spent an inordinate amount of time speaking to child psychologists, poring over the latest child development studies, and seriously thinking about how best to frame the whole experience for her.

It's funny watching a kid grow up. At the early stages, they tend to emulate and pick up things from those around them. That's why it never surprised me to find that my daughter thought it was freaking hilarious when she farted on the dog, walked around the apartment with underwear on her head, pretended to read the newspaper on the toilet, or did the "shake your bootie dance" in public.

Gee, I wonder where she got all that from!

But now, she's at a stage where I'm starting to see more of her own individual personality come out and I have to admit...it's fucking awesome. Of course, you see it at earlier stages. Except now that she's four, she's constantly adding her own twist to things. For those of you with younger kids, it's hard to explain and I wish I could convey the experience better but I'm at a loss for words. I'll have to explore this some other time when I'm not simultaneously drinking a scotch and watching SportsCenter in the background.

Anyway, today the Peanut got in argument with some kid at daycare and the other kid teased her. My daughter's reply? "Hey! You know what? You're not being very nice. Santa's not bringing you ANYTHING this year!" When I asked her if that was really a nice thing to say to one of her close friends, the Peanut turned to me and replied, "It's ok, dude. I was just kidding."

Hmmm, maybe the apple never falls far from the tree after all.

Anyway, I think I'm just a little blown away right now because, last night, BossLady had the Peanut write out a letter to Santa. Of course, my 4-year-old daughter can't spell a single word so she had to explicitly state what she wanted to say to Santa and my wonderfully patient wife had to spell out each and every word, letter by letter. In fact, BossLady told me that if the Peanut actually wrote everything she wanted to say, the letter probably would have been 20 pages long and taken two days to write.

Naturally, even writing the shortened version took a long time but, in the end, I thought it was kind of cool that the first letter my daughter has ever written was to Santa and, in a very brief way, encapsulated not only everything that she is about right now but also everything I love about her.

Check it out, yo...

Translation:

Dear Santa...I wish you a Merry Christmas. I love you and Rudolph too. I would like a princess dress. I'm a very good girl. Thank you. Ok.

The drawing is of Santa and a giant incarnation of Rudolph. I really dig how Rudolph's antlers look like UHF antennas. But the best part is when I asked her what those three things behind Rudolph that looked like upside-down lollipops were, she replied, "Silly Daddy. That's reindeer poop!"

God damn, I love this kid.