Up Your Butt and Around the Corner

“Son, where’s your buddy?” He likes to go to sleep with the same buddy every night: a cuddly white stuffed animal he’s been sleeping with since he was an infant. We tracked down an exact duplicate in an attempt to mitigate the risk of losing his buddy and his never being quite the same. We tried to integrate the new buddy one night by swapping old and new. We woke up to buddy entrails strewn about his crib and bedroom floor. He was 2 years old at most at the time.

“I don’t know. I haven’t tried looking yet,” he replied, busy with his wooden train set. I was laying down on my back on his bed looking up at the ceiling.

“Maybe,” he offered, “it’s up your butt and around the corner.”

He kept on playing, not so much as pausing to glance back at me. I stared at the back of his head. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t snicker.

I just about lost it…with laughter. I think I felt tears streaming down my cheeks. I can’t be sure as I started to lose consciousness from holding my breath. I am sure I was beet-red from trying to suppress my laughter.

When you aren’t paying attention, kids begin to turn into you. Provided you’re a primary caregiver, that is. I haven’t measured what my kids have picked up from their grandparents, for example, but I can tell you that my observation is that my boys are chock-full-o mannerisms and such that come from both their mom (ex: up your butt and around the corner) and their dad (ex: yeah…not so much). Most of them, you tend to overlook or not even notice, but some…some are just worth writing about.

There was nothing up my butt tonight. His buddy was sitting on the couch. She looked relieved.