Yesterday Lucy told me that when she grows up, she wants to be a bird. I can completely relate to this desire. The fact that the possibility of growing into birdness remains a possibility for Lucy indicates that she is still the most sophisticated thinker in the Black Hockey Household.
Lucy telling me about her desire to pursue a career in being a bird served to reach a goofy mental hand into my goopy stew of memory to grab another bird story. 7 years ago, when Jackson was 3, he woke me up in the middle of the night.
3-YEAR-OLD JACKSON (in a hushed whisper that wants to wake me up gently [???]): Dad. Dad. Awake? Dad.
DAD: Jackson. Yeah. What? What?
3-YEAR-OLD JACKSON: What do birds eat?
I remembered how my future wife had, when she was working in a bookstore, given me her 33% discount on the sly, repeatedly. This was during a period of my life when I would sometimes need to choose between books or food (what a catch, Jenna!). It dawned on me then, in the middle of the night, that ultimately there was no such thing as 33% off your books from a hot bookstore girl. O sure you might save the money at the time. But eventually, you'll pay.
I muttered "Bugs or something I think." because I just can't remember "worms" at 2 AM. Of course when I woke up in the morning I fell in love with this event. Can you imagine having a question force you from your slumber like that? Just springing out of bed solely from the desire to know what birds eat? It's like this hole in Jackson's knowledge base suddenly became unbearable and he needed to know like an addict needs. Kids are crazy interesting, but not so much in the middle of the night.
Lucy's worst statements are the stuff of blog gold. A lot of you praise the name of the blog (and I thank you). And OK yeah, I think it's funny too. But when I was sitting there, and my daughter was screaming with glee about being fondled by the wind, all the kids, the parents O my God. Again a flashback: me staring at a book for hours. Un. Dis. Turbed. This is the black & white of my life. Pre-Kids/Post-Kids. Period. It's like the guy I was before kids is some vague memory of a show I saw on TV. Once. When I was super tired. And drunk.
But I'm like you. I wouldn't have it any other way.
And then there's Lucy's "He looks crazy!" right in the face of a Fat Bald Retarded Kid. At the time, mortified. And yet that is the post that took me from 15 readers to... more than 15.
I can't think of any one terrible thing that Jackson has said because he has formed an entire collection that I'll call the "Mom Is Fat" collection. Probably 20-30 times in his life, Jackson has said something completely fucking stupid like "Mom, you've got a big butt". Now, we can speculate all we want about relativity, how Jackson is little, so his mother's ass "looks" big to his little eyes and blah blah blah. So what. Who cares? Damage done. WTF JACKSON?!? You're not the guy who has to look at her butt in 12 pairs of pants to tell her if it looks big or not, so you can just shut the hell up. I've seriously taken him aside and told him: "Never ever ever ever, under any circumstances, utter a sentence with the noun Mom anywhere near the adjective Fat. Do you understand?" And he does understand. Jackson is a brilliant little boy. He's in the gifted and talented program. Etc. But he sure as hell lacks a little bit in the area of social conscience.
For the record, in bold yellow italics: My wife has an awesome ass.
Anyway, my Friday is always your day. What are some of the best & worst things your kids have ever said? Don't have kids? Make shit up! That's the best part about The Wind In Your Vagina.