Wednesday, April 23, 2008

PG-13 Kimmel Conversations

OK, OK. I know it has been a week. I do the best I can, folks.

There have been some interesting conversations going on in the Kimmel house and I figured I would share some of them with you all. They are at times funny, yet slightly horrifying, but I am willing to share them with you as long as you understand the following:

1. We are not big fans of spanking, and I am so not interested in a debate about it. We prefer to take things away when our children deliberately disobey, but Calvin has such a vivid imagination that he will simply pretend he still has the toy we confiscated. Therefore, in this instance, we spanked.

2. If you are slightly uncomfortable with breastfeeding, then I would check back in in a few days for a different post.

3. I am going to have to make reference to a form of birth control. I am sorry. But the story isn't nearly as funny or horrifying without it.

4. I am now living in the proper south, and I am a southern Baptist as well. As a southern, southern Baptist (does that sound redundant like I am saying the same thing over and over again?) I apologize if this post is in any way offensive.

Here we go.


It was nap time, and both boys really, really needed a nap. (As did their mommy...) Cal, for whatever reason, couldn't quite settle down. The first time he got up out of bed, he told me he needed to poop. (Oh, sorry. You have to be OK with poop too.) So he did, and since he correctly identified the needed body function, he was off the hook and I tucked him sweetly back in bed. The second time I heard him up, he was in the bathroom claiming he needed to go again. Now there was a cacophony of noise (if you get my drift) so I let that slide, and I tucked him back in with a stern warning that he was not to get up again. Not more than a few minutes later, I hear him rattling about in the bathroom again. And this is how the conversation went.

Me: What are you doing out of your bed?

Cal: (sheepish look) Um, I have more poops.

Me: Calvin, what did I tell you about getting up?

Cal: Not to.

Me: Well, if you don't poop, I am going to have to spank your bottom because you didn't obey.

Cal: (thinking a minute and finally letting out a deep sigh) I guess I will have to take my chances.

(Cal hops up onto the toilet and tries his very best to get some sort of potty action going, but to no avail.)

Me: Calvin, you need to stand up and get your spanking and go back to bed.

Cal: (lighting up with the brilliance of his new idea) I know! You can just let me spank myself!

Me: Um, no.

Cal: (trying to figure a way out of this) Well, OK. How about you spank me like this (he hops off the toilet and gives himself a gentle tap on the bottom) and not like this (he whacks himself on the other cheek way harder than I would ever spank him)?

Me: (trying not to laugh because in the end deliberate disobedience is no laughing matter) Calvin, turn around and let me spank you for disobeying.

(I swat his non-red bum cheek.)

Cal: Whew! Glad that's over with.

He trots back to bed.


Our next door neighbors recently had a little baby girl and they were outside with her. I commented while we were eating dinner how much their little girl was growing. And here is how Jude's conversation went.

Jude: I know where babies get their milk from.

Me: And where is that?

Jude: (pointing to his chest) From the mommy's pips.

(Mark cowers, hoping not to be drawn into this...)

Me: (trying to be cool so Jude isn't uncomfortable with breastfeeding so that later in life he can support his wife in nursing if they so choose) Yes. That's right.

Jude: (proud that he is in "the know") That is where you fed Cal and me.

Me: Yes, until you were big enough to eat grown up food.

(Mark desperately trying to find a way to sneak out of the kitchen undetected.)

Jude: Do you still have milk in your pips, mommy?

Me: (watching Mark and hoping he finds an escape route I can take as well) Uh, no.

Jude: (incredulous) You mean Cal and I drank it all?!?!?!?!!?


So Cal and I were at Chick-fil-a, waiting for my friend LaVonna Gaile and her sweet son Hunter Bunter to meet us for breakfast. Cal was very, very hungry so after listening to him grumble and squawk, I picked him up and went up to order us some food. Unfortunately, as we got to the counter Calvin decided to repeatedly change his mind and flail about dangerously, and in my completely distracted state, this is what I heard coming out of my mouth to the elderly woman waiting on us:

Me: Can I please have the #2 three count chicken mini condom?

It was horrifying.

So there you have it. You have now been able to eavesdrop on some of the more unique conversations that happen in the course of a week in our home. It is just never boring.


Ava's Mama said...

You make me feel so much better about myself and the chaos of my life! Not that yours is worse than mine...just that they are equally interesting!

Aly said...

"mini" condoms? Must be all those little peckers runnin around yer place.

Carrigan Family said...

I'm still laughing - I would just love to have heard how many times that lady re-told that story that day - you know she's been telling it for days.

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