Wednesday, November 28, 2012

I Know You Are, But What Am I?

Cael, with attitude beyond his years, has taken to flinging insults like monkeys fling poo.  Or, if our potty training efforts don't prove effective, like Graham may be flinging poo for the rest of his years.

But back to Cael.

Since his five years haven't taught him many good zingers to exclaim when he needs a comeback, he has resorted to making his own, and his favorite formula is to announce that his victim is whatever item they were discussing.

"Cael, you need to share that train with me!"

"No I don't.  You're a train."


He is so confident in his own conversational prowess that he immediately looks at the others in the room as if to say, "I really told him, huh?"  But his technique is so overused and predictable that I often overhear some really strange dialogue from the other room.

"Hey Graham, should we ask Mommy to have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch?"

"Yeah, Cael, that sounds yummy!"

"You're a yummy, Graham."

"What's a yummy?"


"Like a sandwich?"

"Yeah, you're like a sandwich too."


His comebacks are so bad, I'm almost tempted to teach him the "your mom" sequence, but I think that might be a gateway phrase that would lead to "that's what she said", and if I heard that come from my son's mouth I don't think I could ever forgive myself.

Something needs to change, though, because the incessant "nouning" is tempting me to join in.

"Mommy, your hair looks weird today."

"That's not very nice, Cael.  It's just kind of frizzy."

"You're a frizzy."

"That doesn't make any sense, honey."

"You're a sense."

"And you're a goofball."

"No I'm not, Mommy.  That's not very nice either."

"You're a nice."



Normally I'd take offense to his bizarre retort, but wasn't I as guilty as Cael?

"Well I'm rubber and you're glue..."

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Leave your own "ism". Cael and Graham double-dog dare you.