#78

Raising children wouldn't be so embarrassing if we didn't have to do it in public. There is a small, feral part of me that wants to run off into wilds and live in a cave or mud hut or a yurt. Somewhere where it doesn't matter if my kid has chocolate stains on his shirt or asks in the world's loudest voice why fat people waddle when they walk. I spend the better part of every interaction my child has with a stranger gritting my teeth in anticipation of some horribly mortifying bon mot like telling an an ABOSOLUTELY NOT PREGNANT woman that she has a "big baby in her belly" or calling the friendly African American guy on the subway "Blackie". And before you call the NAACP, Isaac was referring to his sunglasses. Which were...you know...black. See that, right there? I had to explain that to you. If I lived in a yurt, that wouldn't be necessary. Unless we had a sort of yurt village, and were neighbors...

Issac is four now, and is still working on some of his English idioms. Instead of "turning" something on, he wants to "get it on". No biggie, merely swapping one double entendre for another, as it were. One of his favorite things to do is turn the lightswitch off and on, especially in a bathroom, where it gets really dark. I just hope nobody called social services when Isaac asked me to come into the bathroom at our local coffee shop, so he could "turn off the light and get it on".