“Aunt Amy you know tigahs (tigers)?” he asked me from where he happily splashed & jumped in his light blue backyard pool. “Tigahs swim in wateh. They don’t have bathing suits.”
I was at my brother-in-law & sister’s house to play with their 4 children born in the order of boy, girl, boy, girl. The June summer day was sunny & hot, & we all relished the pleasantness of being outdoors.
I witnessed the energetic youngsters spraying the green hose, riding tricycles & scooters, & playing tag. What fun it was to be, during part of the playtime, the proverbial fly on the wall!
Before “teaching” me about giant cats, the 3-year-old was playing a Pokémon card contest against his older sister & brother on an L-shaped backyard couch. I saw that the trio of children all took their competition very seriously.
It therefore came as no surprise to hear my youngest nephew employ his pint-sized version of trash-talking. He couldn’t resist taking a shot at his big sis. The lad doesn’t actually know any bad words, but ignorance is bliss because he obviously thinks he does.
So the fired-up fella hurled to his sibling – to the best of his knowledge – his own brand of little boy bashing.
(However, I just don’t for the life of me know how offended, if at all, I would be if someone called me a term that combines both a common breakfast food & a run-of-the-mill body part.)
“You’re an egghead!”
By Aunt Amy