It’s begun. My daughter is now in the “brutally honest” phase of her life. I anticipate good times and laughs ahead.
Here’s the scenario. It’s shortly after a delicious pasta lunch. Pea and I are playing together on the floor in fairly close proximity. As I explained to her how she might go about building a castle with some blocks, I noticed a sour look on her face. I kept talking, but her crinkled up nose did not disappear.
Then, without warning, she struck the first insulting blow in our relationship:
Pea – “Daddy, P.U.”Me – “What’s that, sweetie?”Pea – “Daddy P.U.”Me – “P.U.? Did you fart?”Pea – “No.”Me – “Then what’s so stinky?”Pea – “Daddy P.U.”
Then it hit me. Garlic bread. Pasta sauce. It all had just a bit too much garlic for Pea’s liking, and she wasn’t pulling any punches.
I ran for the toothbrush. Order was restored.
This particular instance was private (fortunately) and hilarious. But I know it won’t be all laughs and tomfoolery. I’m sure the first time Pea makes an awkward reference to someone’s weight, race or physical appearance on some form of public transportation, I won’t be laughing. Quite the opposite, I’m sure – I’ll be looking for a big enough barrel to throw myself over Niagara Falls.
So I’m reaching out to my urbanmoms to help me prepare for the inevitable. Let me know what awkward moments you’ve faced alongside a curious child, and what logical explanation you managed to muster. If you failed miserably, let me know what you wished you’d said instead.
With Pea’s curious nature, I can use all of the advice I can get.