Wednesday, November 14, 2012

That Hairy Thing Dodged a Bullet

It seems to me that we should really just have an "eject" button for those times when our cherubs horrify us. Like badly.

Eli and I have to work on reading three digits numbers, because that ability is the last thing between him and going alone to the male locker room at the YMCA.  That and the fact he's three.  The age thing is a barrier, fo' sho', but not enough that I wouldn't consider sending him alone if I knew he could get the locker opened and himself changed and, you know...Not be among naked  grown men. 

I mean, really.   Eli has discovered his love of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  It was love at first sight and he's fallen hard.   As a result, I am often the victim of really bad ninja moves.  The turtles were tained for 15 years, according the book I've read 432 times since Sunday.  Eli's only been in training for 2 weeks. And he's three.  And not a turtle, incidently.   So, the moves are bad, but not painful and that helps.

He knows no boundries when it comes to his ninja powers.  Home.  The Store.  The YMCA.  In the locker room.  While I'm naked. 

Tonight I was left searching for the eject button.  I'm in a half stage of dresshood praying he won't do his usual thing and say, "Booooooooooooooobs..." like a three year old pervert.  No worries.  He's honing his turtle moves.  My anatomy was seemingly of no concern to him as he jumped from a stool and practiced karate chopping me. Plus also, he was shooting at me, because even though the Ninja Turtles' weapon of choice is a sword, Eli can't let his boyness go long enough to stop shooting everything with imaginary guns (where the heck do they get this). 

Then, he says (and I quote), "I'm going to shoot your (pause while he searches for word)...I'm going to shoot your hairy thing." 

Yes, friends, THAT hairy thing. 

Oh.  My.  

Eject.  Eject.  Eject.

A rush of gratitude to the locker Gods that it seemingly went unheard by other ears.  Glad my hairy thing and I dodged the bullet of humiliation.

Tomorrow we begin three digit number instruction.




3 comments:

  1. Just what the doctor ordered - some good ol' fashioned comic relief. Ahhh, blisss! HI.LAR.I.OUS!

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  2. Holy Mother....!!!!

    Yea, I mean you. ; )

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  3. Speechless. (And YOU know that's saying something.) :)

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