I know I've been writing about Landis a lot lately, but... well... he's the one providing the material these days. And lest you think I'm ignoring Gibson, don't worry. I'm not. He may be walking the straight and narrow right now, but I have no doubts that he'll do something obnoxious here shortly that I'll chronicle on-line for all the world to see...... Just hang in there.
So what was I saying? Oh yes. Landis -- Here's the deal. Lately he's been into rhyming the last word of whatever sentence you happen to be speaking to him at the moment. Any word qualifies for his new little rhyming game, and for some reason that makes sense only to him, he's rhyming them all with the letter F.
It's mildly annoying, this new Tourette's-like habit he's begun, but we go with it. Because it's not like he doesn't communicate or that he doesn't answer any questions you might be asking. He just rhymes first. And I imagine that this new little exercise will get old sooner than later and eventually he'll stop. (At least I hope he does. Good God, can you imagine his future job interviews?) But for the time-being, it goes something like this:
"Did you have a good day at school today?" Today, Foo-day! Yeah. It was pretty good.
"Do you have any homework?" Homework, Fomework! No.
"Ok -- Well get outside and play." Play, Fay! Will you help me get my bike out?
"It's time for dinner!" Dinner, Finner!
"Wash your hands....." Hands, Fands!
"Get your drinks......" Drinks, Finks!
"And come to the table." Table, Fable!
"Did you get to see any of your camp friends at school?" School, Fool! Yes, I saw Jonathan. I got to play with him at the playground.
"Oh, that's great! I heard Jonathan's teacher is Ms. Lucky." And as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized what was coming next. So did Mike. We connected silently across the table with that mildly panicky "oh shit" look as Landis replied to my statement - loudly, I might add - in his standard rhyming fashion.
And then I casually changed the subject and "Hey! More green beans anyone?" so that Gibson would not have an inkling that his 5 year old brother just yelled a serious profanity over the pork fajitas. I mean, they already get a cheap thrill from insulting each other with their arsenal of 'bad' words: Poopy-poopy butt-crack, weenus, crap, and of course, the infamous "S" words -- which every parent of young children knows are Stupid and Shut Up.
So let me take this opportunity to say Thank God for Ms. Hoskins -- and the fact that we never have to utter Ms. Lucky's name in our household ever again. At least not while we're still rhyming everything with the letter F.
Surprising no one
9 years ago
2 comments:
I remember that rhyming phase with the girls. Inevitably the f word came out in the sequence of "uck" words...truck, muck, duck, etc. And we did the same thing: just let it go and chuckle inwardly. No sense in having to explain that one too soon.
You and Mike get serious points for letting that one pass with a straight face. Jeromy and I would have had giggle fits, I'm sure.
Post a Comment