A great thing about kids is their innocense and goofyness. They say and do pretty much whatever without much awareness of what they are doing, and therefore have not yet developed a sence of what should be embarassing. In a way, it is wonderful. They do their thing in their own world and don’t care what anybody thinks. In another way, sometimes they do inappropriate things with their dinner.
The other day, my two-year-old daughter, Evie, pretended her hot dog was a popsicle.
I don’t know if I can pinpoint what the most awkward part of my life a parent so far has been, but right now it’s hard to think of anything worse than watching your precious little girl hoover a Ball Park. I always figured the worst thing my kids would to with a hot dog is put ketchup on it. This had never entered my mind.
When she started doing it, my wife and I immediatly locked eyes across the table, sharing a stare that was half horror and half trying not to laugh. Its one thing when your kid accidently uses profanity not realizing what they are saying, its quite another for that profanity to turn into a game of charades. Adding a layer of difficulty to the attempt not to laugh, you must keep in mind I have the sense of humor of a middle schooler. The next time somebody at work talks about thier duties and I don’t giggle will be the first.
“It’s a popcicle!” she joyfully blurted.
I died a little inside.
“Why don’t you take a bite?” I encourage her.
“No. I’m pretending!”
Part of my soul is perminently blacked.
“Show me a good bite sweetie,” I implore.
“It’s a popsicle!” She said with complete disregard for my risk of stroke.
“Evie….bite the hot dog.”
I don’t know how long her game of pretend went on, but it felt like roughly an hour and half.
I have to say, I am pretty proud of myself for how I handled it. I didn’t laugh. I didn’t make a big deal out of it. I simply informed her that was not the proper way to eat a hot dog, and kept her innocent imagination completly intact. Wish I could say the same about how I will forever view my daughter, but hey, that’s parenting. I’m sure I’ll be able to look her in the eye at dinner again eventually, but just to be on the safe side I’m going to stop buying bananas and cut up her hot dogs for her until she moves out.