February 16, 2010 @ 22:03

Warning, this story is not particularly . . .  G rated?  It’s not too ugly, but . . .  well, you remember Ralphie and the Queen Mother of all swear words in A Christmas Story?  Yeah, it’s like that. 

Early Monday morning, Puppy came running into my room as I was folding laundry to tell me about a new magical creature he had just discovered in his Harry Potter game.  Now, Puppy has become a really great reader.  And frequently he reads a new word by sounding it out and just plows on through, not bothering to ask if he’s right about the new word or not.  That was the case here.  Super excited about his new acquisition he comes running into the room and is telling me, at about nintey words a minute that he has a new creature and it is a “Magical C#^T!”  Are you with me on what that word was that he was nearly shouting at me?  The creature was actually called a knut.  He transposed the N and the U.  Sound it out . . .  uh huh . . .  Now are you with me? 

Yeah. 

So we spent several minutes with me explaining very emphatically that he had read that word wrong and that he must never ever ever EVER say that wrong word again because it was a very bad word.  And that the word he had read was actually pronounced newt!  And we talked about how a K and an N together make the N sound just like in the word “know” and NEVER say that other word again.  And isn’t newt a funny sounding word and NEVER say that other word again.  And what an awesome new magical creature that magical knut was and NEVER say that other word again.  I felt fairly confident that I had made my point. 

Yeah. 

Flash forward several hours to our afternoon haircut appointment.  Puppy is in the chair getting his haircut and our stylist is a very nice mommy and he is talking ninety miles an hour about his DS games and Kirby and Mariokart and Harry Potter and without breaking stride, or even taking a breath I think, he says “And you must never say C#^T because that is a bad word!”

And then as I have an existential experience, become dizzy and learn the full meaning of the word apoplectic, he just keeps on talking.  And meanwhile every other person in the place, and there were at least half a dozen, freeze, look at me, and then die laughing.  I haven’t been that mortified in so long.  Probably not since my Dad “accidentally” taught Bear how to say “S#%T”. 

Yeah. 

All I can say is, thank god I get our hair cut in a place full of women that are moms and that have a good sense of humor. 

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