Parenting when you're a Pervert (originally from FL)
Daughter: "Daddy, I wanna go to the steak place with the clams."
Cassie: "I didn't know you liked clams, girlie?
Kenova: "I guess you could say she digs clams. She's a 'clam-digger'. "
Cassie: *smacks Kenova*
Cassie: "I'm glad you like clams, girlie. Seafood is good for you."
Kenova: "...yes. Yes it is. Just ask your Mommy. She knows alllll about clams."
Cassie: *smacks Kenova*
At Outback, eating clam chowder:
Daughter: "Daddy, where do they get the clams?"
Kenova: "In wet places. Clams need to be kept wet."
Daughter: "Then how do you dig for them?"
Kenova: "..."
Cassie: *smacks Kenova*
Cassie: *clips the baby-leash...er...'tethered bookbag' to our toddler*
Daughter: "Mommy, I wanna hold John's collar!"
Cassie: *wince* "Uhm...do you mean his leash, honey?"
Daughter: "That too! 'cause he's gonna be my little pet boy!"
Kenova: "Phrasing. Boom."
Cassie: *Smacks poor Kenova*
Cassie: "Let's not today, honey...maybe tomorrow."
Daughter: "Mom, can I go out with Sophia? Or Sophie B?"
Kenova: "...when you're sixteen."
Cassie: *smacks poor, abused Kenova*
Cassie: "I'll call Sophia and Sophie's moms, girlie."
At Reading Terminal Market:
Daughter: "Mommy, look at the size of that bologna!"
Kenova: *whispers* "...she's already seen it this morning."
Cassie: *smacks Kenova*
Cassie: "That's nice, girlie."
Ten thousand times a day...it takes superhuman parenting skills not to crack these jokes, people. Seriously. I keep it down to one out of ten, and just whisper the rest to myself and pray Cassie can't hear.
The joy of a very literal child, that most of what you say goes over their head if you deadpan it. Someday she's going to be old enough to catch some of the things I say.
And then, my friends...
I'm pretty sure I'll be going to hell.
Cassie: "I didn't know you liked clams, girlie?
Kenova: "I guess you could say she digs clams. She's a 'clam-digger'. "
Cassie: *smacks Kenova*
Cassie: "I'm glad you like clams, girlie. Seafood is good for you."
Kenova: "...yes. Yes it is. Just ask your Mommy. She knows alllll about clams."
Cassie: *smacks Kenova*
At Outback, eating clam chowder:
Daughter: "Daddy, where do they get the clams?"
Kenova: "In wet places. Clams need to be kept wet."
Daughter: "Then how do you dig for them?"
Kenova: "..."
Cassie: *smacks Kenova*
Cassie: *clips the baby-leash...er...'tethered bookbag' to our toddler*
Daughter: "Mommy, I wanna hold John's collar!"
Cassie: *wince* "Uhm...do you mean his leash, honey?"
Daughter: "That too! 'cause he's gonna be my little pet boy!"
Kenova: "Phrasing. Boom."
Cassie: *Smacks poor Kenova*
Cassie: "Let's not today, honey...maybe tomorrow."
Daughter: "Mom, can I go out with Sophia? Or Sophie B?"
Kenova: "...when you're sixteen."
Cassie: *smacks poor, abused Kenova*
Cassie: "I'll call Sophia and Sophie's moms, girlie."
At Reading Terminal Market:
Daughter: "Mommy, look at the size of that bologna!"
Kenova: *whispers* "...she's already seen it this morning."
Cassie: *smacks Kenova*
Cassie: "That's nice, girlie."
Ten thousand times a day...it takes superhuman parenting skills not to crack these jokes, people. Seriously. I keep it down to one out of ten, and just whisper the rest to myself and pray Cassie can't hear.
The joy of a very literal child, that most of what you say goes over their head if you deadpan it. Someday she's going to be old enough to catch some of the things I say.
And then, my friends...
I'm pretty sure I'll be going to hell.
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