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Jan. 17th, 2008 04:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blodeueddWow, I seem to have a lot to say today...
I've spent the last half hour giggling about some of the "kids say really stupid/embarrassing/awful things" stories here, so I thought I'd share one of mine, even though it's not devastating in any way.
When I was little, my father used to sing to me quite a bit, including "When It's Springtime in the Rockies" (here are the lyrics), sometimes substituting "mosquitoes" for "birds" -- anyway, that's not the point. Once, when my parents took me to the doctor's office for a check-up, the doctor kindly asked me, "And what's your name?"
"I'm the sweetheart of the mountains," I replied, with all the seriousness my two-year-old self was capable of.
I can just imagine my parents trying not to howl with laughter in the corner of the exam room.
In a similar vein, though this time my brother was the "victim":
The summer I was 8, my grandmother rented a cottage for one week on l'Ile d'Orléans, and we went to stay with her. B2 was three at the time, and after the long drive (at least 5 1/2 hours from Aylmer, not counting stops), he was pretty cranky. We made it to the cottage and it was pouring rain, so my parents hustled us inside while they hurried to empty the car and get all our things inside. B2, seeing my mother heading out the door, wanted to go with her, but she told him to stay inside because "Il fait un temps de cochon!" B2 paused, then looked out the window for a few seconds. We couldn't figure out why, until the tears that had been threatening spilled over, and he started wailing, "Où est le cochon???"
By that time, he was too upset to listen to an explanation, so my mother had to rock him until he calmed down. He was too young to understand the concept of a figure of speech, anyway, so we just didn't mention pigs or pig-appropriate weather again that day and he forgot about it.
I've spent the last half hour giggling about some of the "kids say really stupid/embarrassing/awful things" stories here, so I thought I'd share one of mine, even though it's not devastating in any way.
When I was little, my father used to sing to me quite a bit, including "When It's Springtime in the Rockies" (here are the lyrics), sometimes substituting "mosquitoes" for "birds" -- anyway, that's not the point. Once, when my parents took me to the doctor's office for a check-up, the doctor kindly asked me, "And what's your name?"
"I'm the sweetheart of the mountains," I replied, with all the seriousness my two-year-old self was capable of.
I can just imagine my parents trying not to howl with laughter in the corner of the exam room.
In a similar vein, though this time my brother was the "victim":
The summer I was 8, my grandmother rented a cottage for one week on l'Ile d'Orléans, and we went to stay with her. B2 was three at the time, and after the long drive (at least 5 1/2 hours from Aylmer, not counting stops), he was pretty cranky. We made it to the cottage and it was pouring rain, so my parents hustled us inside while they hurried to empty the car and get all our things inside. B2, seeing my mother heading out the door, wanted to go with her, but she told him to stay inside because "Il fait un temps de cochon!" B2 paused, then looked out the window for a few seconds. We couldn't figure out why, until the tears that had been threatening spilled over, and he started wailing, "Où est le cochon???"
By that time, he was too upset to listen to an explanation, so my mother had to rock him until he calmed down. He was too young to understand the concept of a figure of speech, anyway, so we just didn't mention pigs or pig-appropriate weather again that day and he forgot about it.
