Some moments in parenting are so perfectly hilarious that they really deserve an audience. At the very least, a transcript of events should be made available for those interested parties.
In this vein, I present the following interaction between my beloved two-year-old and myself from recent events:
The scene opens with Mother sautéing vegetables (fine, bacon) for a brown rice stir-fry (fine, spaghetti carbonara) at the stove. Dear Daughter runs in with speed and purpose, swiftly punches Mother as directly and powerfully in the butthole as Dear Daughter’s coordination and Mother’s skinny jeans will allow and exclaims
“POW! There’s a hole right there”
Dear Daughter runs away as Mother laugh-cries, recovering from this shocking violation/premeditated comedy happening. Then suddenly Mother realizes that over dinner she will need to broach the delicate subject of whose butthole is appropriate to punch and when (nobody’s/never – if you can punch your own butthole standing up we need to take you to a specialist), while fielding questions as to various bodily orifices and their uses. Dear Daughter proves to have boundless curiosity and enthusiasm for this subject and is, thankfully, equally interested in the carbonara.
End scene. Oh wait, no, I live here…
