On Kids and Word Vomit

If there's one thing I love about my kids, it is the goofy shit that flies out of their innocent minds on a daily basis. My 5 year old, whom I will call Midge for the duration of this blog, is especially prone to word vomit. This morning, she ran up to me for a hug and says "I love you, my big-head mommy." Gee. Thank you darling daughter! Moments like these I only wish I could retort, "Me, a big-head? Five years ago I could have sworn YOU had the biggest head on the planet," but I quickly realize she doesn't really care about her watermelon head squeezing through my bagel and she would probably vomit from fear or disgust... Maybe even both. Also, to be fair, I hadn't had coffee yet and was hardly awake enough to mumble my love in return. I really worry sometimes about what she will say to other people. Once, she called me old to a lady at the bank. Then there was that time in Target in the dressing room when she asked why my butt had potholes. Yes. Potholes. The entire dressing room erupted in laughter and I sat in there for an HOUR on Facebook waiting for the area to clear out so I could avoid anyone who had heard it. Then there was the time we were in the grocery store and a woman came by on a motorized cart. My daughter, with as much lung power as she could muster, shouted at me from the basket of the cart, "Mommy look! Her legs are too big to work! How come her legs are so big? Is there a baby in her big tummy? Mom?". That woman looked at me like I was the lowest human being on Earth. Umm no kid. No baby. Be quiet.
Society these days tells us that fat is beautiful, embrace it. I'm all for that, and try to avoid using the term fat when speaking to my kids, and yes it was indeed a bid to keep exactly those sorts of situations from happening. Well, here's the thing.. Kids will say -and do- whatever comes into their random little minds. No amount of tact in teaching them about diversity and appreciating diversity will stop them from all out shit-storming you in the grocery store.. And Target.. And the bank.. And at that babysitting interview.. And at the park.. And... Everywhere. Its always at the worst moment, and its always epic. Maybe this only happens to me. Maybe there are little mini Emily Post clone children running around somewhere who know its impolite to rip off a fart next to an old lady in the grocery store and blame it on their little brother. Maybe there are kids out there who don't dig through the trash can for leftovers like an ill mannered puppy. Maybe, but not mine.
My kids will say please and thank you and excuse me. They will (try to) open doors for others and fuss over splitting one cookie three ways so everyone gets a piece. They will hug you when you're sad, and they will chew with their mouths closed when they remember. They'll even shush each other when its time to be quiet, but the second they have a question, it will spring from their mouth faster than you can find the duct tape. Not that duct taping your kid is a good idea, but maybe a strategic cookie muzzle. Huzzah!