Published on March 25th, 2014 | by Richard Black0
Daddy I’m High, Get Your Mouth off of that Pole and Other Phrases from Children and Parents that Could be Misinterpreted
A few weeks ago on a dull and gray winter morning I received the following text from a friend whom I will call Max Headstrong because, in reality, that should be his real name.
“Looking forward to seeing you in ballet class”
“WTF? I never thought I’d say that.”
Max is a good guy, a man’s man. He hunts when deer is in season, owns around 20 or so firearms of various calibers, lengths and lethality and is one of my best friends. I responded with the ubiquitous LOL (ubiquitous means ever-present. I know because I just looked it up) and met up with him at a ballet class his daughter Tianna and my daughter Darcy had attended for the past few months.
The two of us spent the first fifteen minutes of class as we usually do, cajoling the kids into the classroom, directing them to pay attention to the instructor and then telling them to have a good time. Despite the last two seemingly mutually exclusive statements the girls generally seem to enjoy themselves. They prance, twirl, and leap like two like miniature ballerinas in pink leotards and tights with a severe inner ear infection.
Once the girls are cheerfully flouncing around the floor Max and I usually spend the next 45 minutes slamming beers at a bar a few miles down the road as we go over the various events of our respective weeks.
I kid of course.
We don’t leave the premises to swap stories over nine or ten beers in less than an hour. Instead we share our parenting and marital experiences over the past week as we split a twelve pack and chase down a few ruffies. It’s a bit unconventional but neither of us feel comfortable breaking the promises we’ve made with our spouses about what we can talk about and what we can’t and the ruffies provide a nice bit of plausible
Max may have told me that he’s dribbled his twins like basketballs up and down the stairs for all I know. I trust that this hasn’t happened. Max is a good guy but it’s nice to have a place to vent, guilt free, and if he likes to relax by by pounding four inch nails into his scrotum who am I to judge?
Max and I swapped many a hilarious and uncomfortable story that day if memory serves. The topics ranged from the typical questions any father must ask of his daughter at some point “have you wiped your vagina?” (a question that is only appropriate when addressing a toddler and not a girlfriend in college) to the more…unusual phrases uttered by both parents and their children.
“Get your mouth off the pole” was a sentence I never thought I’d hear my wife utter to me or anyone else. Taken in context it’s a bit less dirty, we were having breakfast, Darcy slid out of her seat and licked the legs of the table as if they were lollipops.
“Daddy get me off,” was another phrase I never thought I’d hear outside of some really bad pornography. Yet there it was. My daughter straddled the arm of our couch, I lifted her up and proceeded to have the exact and precise opposite of an erection.
“Get me high,” was another favorite. Both Max and I had heard our daughters’ say the phrase a few weeks ago as they were on a swing at a local park, with luck and some water boarding we won’t have to worry about that hearing that request again.
As our time came to a close and the girls ran out of class. Max’s twins both settled on my lap. I helped his wife wrangle them into shoes and coats as my wife did the same with Darcy.
It was only on the drive home that I realized that God or fate or Whomever does answer some prayers, if not in the spirit of the law then by the letter.
My own sense of propriety and well being kept me from mentioning my thoughts to Max, it’s unusual I know but occasionally I do show some consideration for others.
As I drove home with Darcy in tow however I couldn’t help but think that I’d prayed to have a set of twins on my lap for two decades. I just never thoughts that they’d be my friend’s toddlers.