Tag - Ways your kids can embarrass you

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Dicknose
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That’s A Funny Way To Eat A Sand-Wedge
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Whose Kids Are These Anyway?

Dicknose

  Eons ago on a date with a new boyfriend, we took his three year old nephew to the park. I was anxious to demonstrate my maternal side, so I pushed the little tyke on the swings, chased him enthusiastically through the grass, climbed the play structure with him and carried him piggy back style rambunctiously across the park. I was sure I’d look up to find my boyfriend watching me admiringly, imagining me as the mother of his future children. How could he not? I was busting my motherly hump. Did I mention the back breaking piggyback thing? When my boyfriend asked his nephew his opinion of the new girlfriend, the little wiseguy replied, “She’s a dicknose. Excuse me? A dicknose says what? Fine. He was three and apparently this was his new thing—he called everyone a dicknose. Stellar parenting on my-never-to-be-sister-in-law’s part by the way. Sorry, too judgey? (In my defense, the child called me a dicknose!) Alas this boyfriend and I never married nor had a brood of babies. Turns out, the dicknose kid’s uncle was a dickhead. Sigh.That guy did a number on me. If only I knew in my twenties what I now know in[…]

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That’s A Funny Way To Eat A Sand-Wedge

I went to see my family doctor last week for my annual exam. I had hoped to leave the three year old at home but alas, my husband was golfing, leaving me on my own to deal with a speculum and a curious toddler.   I’m sure I’m not the first to tell this tale; the sordid story of a woman in a paper gown chasing a rangy child around a doctor’s office. There’s only so much you can do to entertain a child in a tiny uninteresting room. I stand corrected. Uninteresting to me but UNBELIEVABLY interesting to a child — the drawers, the dirty garbage can, the doctor’s phone, the curtain, the wheelie stool — all extremely intriguing.   Suddenly my daughter disappeared behind the curtain. Moments later the curtains parted to expose her tiny hand now sporting a rubber glove. Apparently I would be entertained by some sort of makeshift puppet show. Thankfully the doctor appeared because the KY jelly was dangerously in reach of the “stage.” God only knows what the Second Act would bring. My daughter loves our doctor. So do I. She is kind, compassionate and a snappy dresser. Did I mention I was[…]

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Whose Kids Are These Anyway?

  Your children have the power to make you weep with joy and puff with pride. They also have the power to embarrass you beyond belief. Last week my daughter had an appointment with her cardiologist; a very nice man whose office Avery mistook for a playground. She was a holy terror opening drawers and slamming doors. The only way I could concentrate on what the doctor was saying was to hold her, bouncing her on my hip. This tactic did the trick until she decided to investigate down my top. Maintaining a serious conversation while a third party has a sticky hand wedged in your cleavage is challenging. Without warning my daughter grabbed my shirt and bra in an iron-like grasp and pulled them both swiftly to the side, giving the doctor an eyeful. I’m sure only look out of professional interest as the left side of my chest was exposed, which everyone knows is where the heart is located. I basically died. On our next outing we popped into the mall to check out the new spring fashions. While I was ogling a pretty floral skirt, Avery who was strapped into her stroller, reached out to fondle a[…]

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