I’m regularly amazed by the things that come out of my children’s mouths.
And no, I’m not talking about the fact my son can cram an astounding amount of food in there and takes some delight in spitting the resulting mush out onto the carpet. Or the Exorcist impression that Violet carried off aged about eight months following a feast of avocado. Although I have to say, that was pretty amazing; I had to buy towels from the shop I was in at the time just to deal with the mess.
The lad is at that stage where he’s just getting words for things and it seems like every day he has something new to say. Today he’s gone from ‘Mum, mum, mum’ to ‘MumMY’ a personal triumph given he’s been saying ‘tractor’ with clarity for ages. God only knows how he’s done it, either, because all he hears from his gorgeous sisters is ‘Muuuuuuum. Mum. Muuuuuuuuuuum.’ They always want something. Why do they always want something? And why do they walk straight past their father to find me in the shower to ask me for that something? Why?
Anyhow, I digress.
Grace picks up every annoying phrase possible from TV and the school playground and plays them on repeat. She’s already using ‘like’ as a filler word. To be fair, and on a more positive note, she actually has a pretty impressive vocabulary due to all the books she’s had surrounding her since day dot, so hopefully the ‘like’ phase will pass. My first-born also has a talent (yes, let’s call it a talent) for brutally honest observations. The best (worst) ones are usually preceded by an air of quiet appraisal and then she hits you with “Mummy, why are your boobies so….draggy?” or “Mummy, why do you keep going walking? You’re not getting any thinner”. Bloody charming.
It’s Violet who’s the source of the most entertainment in terms of language at the moment. She comes out with all sorts of things, often set to her own little musical composition or one she’s picked up somewhere or other.
We’ve had a couple of crackers in the last week or so.
Last week at the doctor’s office, the lovely woman who works at reception, the one who always has a cute stamp for the girls’ hands, didn’t have one.
Me: “Oh, well, next time we come there will be one. You’re so lucky that you usually get one.”
Grace: “Thank you, anyway. See you next time.”
Violet: a loud and enthusiastic verse of ‘It’s a Hard Knock Life’ from Annie.
Can a three-year old do sarcasm? Seems mine can. Because the way she sung it just dripped with it.
It’s fair to say I do sing a lot around the house. And I do sing bits and pieces at the kids to communicate…ummm…ideas. So, it’s possible—OK, certain—she’s picked up this little gem from her mother, but I was still gobsmacked, as were the other adults in attendance.
Cute, right? Funny.
In contrast, the other one from this week was a bit of a clanger. And I couldn’t work out where on earth she’d gotten the material from. Luckily my sister is more in the know than me and helped me figure it all out.
So, according to my helpful sister, there’s a film out called ‘Sing’. And in the ad for that film, there’s a little clip with three rabbits singing “Oh my gosh, would you look at her butt”.
Look, I don’t know why. I’m yet to see it. I’m sure it’s a great film. Hilarious even. What children’s film is complete without a tribute to Nicky Minaj? What I’m not so sure about is how my three-year old has discovered it. Fact is, she has. And she likes to sing this particularly catchy line. Regularly. Loudly.
Aw, still cute, you reckon. Still funny.
Yes, until you combine this song lyric, her love for improvisation, and the newest addition to her vocabulary; penis.
You can guess what she’s been singing. I don’t need to spell it out for you.
Not. So. Cute.
Still funny, but in a ‘God I really hope no-one heard her say that, better explain the context before they think my child is weird, please don’t judge my parenting’ kind of way.
In other words, funny for people who are not her mother. You all enjoy. I’ll be over here bracing myself for her next one.