This morning my three-year-old Joshua and I were sitting on the couch. I was doing my makeup and he was playing with the fat on my upper left arm. Just why was he doing that? I can only guess it is because I am and have always been his favorite toy, jungle gym, and entertainment center.
As I applied foundation, he squeezed some of my arm fat between his hands. “Look Mommy! Your arm looks like private parts!” Hmm, just the words every mother longs to hear her son say. I looked over to see what shape he could possibly be creating with my cellulite when he stopped doing it. Perhaps it was the look on my face that made him drop the fat, but I didn’t get a look. But somehow my jiggle reminded him of some type of nudey parts. Greeeeeaaaat. Here’s the ensuing conversation.
Joshua: I’m going to tell Pop! (My father-in-law, who we are going to see tonight.)
Me: No, honey, it’s not nice to talk about private parts. We only talk about them with Mommy or Daddy. (Translation:Please for the love of God do NOT tell my father-in-law that my arm looks like private parts, or anything else that might cause him to call children’s services.)
Joshua: Right. I can tell Mommy or Daddy. Or Pop.
Me: No, honey, NOT Pop.
Joshua: Ok.
I have to stop writing now, so I can go get my 3 lb. hand weights and get these vagina arms into a more arm-like shape!! Apparently blogging is not giving them the workout they need!
