By Diane Stamm
The Wauneta Breeze
It’s been crazy lately at our house. My kids’ birthdays were this week. I look back over the years and I’m a little amazed they have survived to eight and five-years old.
As I’ve said before, I had a preconceived notion of what parenting would be and I’ve been forced to throw it all out the window.
Words that don’t belong together come flying out of your mouth before you have time to think. Things like “Don’t screw your brother!” True story: My son had been on this earth about two weeks and I found my daughter standing over him with a screwdriver and a gleam in her eyes.
That gleam is there regularly. The wheels are constantly turning in their heads.
Parenting books and your imagination can’t prepare you for what kids can come up with.
So, in honor of my kids’ birthdays, I give you the Stamm Family’s Greatest Hits:
Winnie the Poop
Sit down in my stinkin’ chair and stink, stink, stink.-Blue’s Clues
Does poop whistle?
Phoney bologna’s getting me, Mom, phoney bologna!—4:00 a.m.
Mom, my talent is up in the sky and your’s is down in the dirt.
I smell like dog lick.
Me: Why don’t you have on any underwear? Her: Because Her Majesty’s don’t.
Only girls are geniuses. Boys are just handsome.
This is frustrating me. It’s making me think a bad word.
Her: I want a piano, but Dad said no. Me: I’ll work on him. Her: OK, but don’t hit him!
Cookies make you the wrong kind of big.
She’s old. I’m newer, so I’m better.
That’s not a unicorn, that’s a horse with a party hat.
I can’t keep my feet off. They’re so contempted.
I can’t use the cup by the sink, that’s the one I get water out of the potty with.
I’m tougher than roasted pecker lips. (wood pecker lips)
Can we get a hang glider? No. Can we get a sled that dogs pull? No. This is the worst day of my life!
I can’t stand for sitting anymore!
I’m not doing my chores anymore. Never is where I draw the line.
After seeing a little boy with Downs Syndrome my son said “He doesn’t talk very well” and my daughter said “Yeah, he’s been downloaded.”
I’m too pretty to go to school.
That fly is up high. I need a caboosed.
I did a good job, I’m compressed (impressed).
Why don’t cows wear underwear?
Were there giants when Jesus was alive?
Whoa, Mom, something stinks! Did I poop my pants?
Grandma, let me see your arm, I want to see what old looks like.
Grandma, go sit down, you don’t have enough energy to dance with me.
I have smarticles in my brain and they won’t let me remember anything.
When told not to run in Walmart: But Mom, what if there’s squirrels? I hate squirrels.
My nachos (nostril) is giving me fits. This nacho is plugged more than this nacho.
I want a peanut butter and pickle sandwich for breakfast with sweet pickles because “Sweet” is my middle name.
Nobody liked the burritos at dinner today, except Katya, but she’s a little more Mexican than the rest of us.
I told him, “Look at that rabbit!” and then I just took it.
My son: I’m not going to live here anymore. I’m going to be a fairy.
You can change your clothes, I won’t laugh.
Mommy, I feel bad saying this, but whatever I’m making....you might not survive.
He should pick on someone his own size, but I am his size so I can’t tell him that!
Last, but not least...My daughter has a toothpaste fetish. Imagine a fireman letting go of a hose with full pressure and you can picture our bathroom after she’s done brushing her teeth. I told her, “When you put toothpaste on your toothbrush it should only be the size of a pea, can you do that?” She replied, very seriously, “Yes, Mom. An uppercase P or a lowercase P?”
To my Sweat Pea and Goopy: Keep the wheels turning. Happy birthdays. I love you. Mom