The joys of children.

I have been a parent for a while now. My oldest is going to be 12, the youngest is two. Yet, I am still surprised by things that I have to say to my kids. I understand that many parents make statements they would never say before, but I’ve had some really strange ones in the last two weeks. Some of the more unusual ones are:

“Don’t tackle the tent!”

“Stop head butting the couch” (As the child is hitting his head as hard as he could against the wooden part of the armrest.)

“Stop licking the TV!”

“Don’t put the fork up your nose.”

“Stop poking yourself in the eye with your fork!”

“Stop beating up your brother” (To clone who had his 10 years older brother pined to the ground pummeling on him)

“Stop trying to stick your head up my butt!” (Clone would run up behind me, grab my legs and press against my butt with his head. I think he was trying to tackle me, but that’s not what it felt like.)

“Why did you give me a purple nurple?!?!” (God that hurt, those little fingers can really pinch)

“Don’t lick my ram-rod!” (He picked up the ramrod to one of my pistols and proceeded to lick it like a lollypop.)

“Don’t touch Daddy’s balls!” (Clone kept thinking my bullets were balls and wanted to play with them, He kept trying to grab one and was saying, “Ball!”)

“Stop trying to cut off my leg with your chainsaw.”

“Are you weed whacking Mommy?”

“If you shoot me one more time, I’m going to have to spank you!” (He kept shooting me with a bubble gun)

“Don’t shove the cat into the mortar!”

These however lead up to last night’s incident at the dinner table. After Clone wiped his face with his sleeve, my wife says to me, “He has a big booger, can you get that for him” I turn and look. Sure enough, there is a huge slimy booger just inside his nostril. So I grab a paper towel and go to wipe his nose. I pull away the paper towel and look at the contents to make sure I got it. I look at it for a second and say to my wife, “That’s not a booger; it’s a piece of ham.” In the paper towel, there was this chunk of fatty ham covered in snot. The best I can tell is that he had sneezed earlier in the meal. When he did this small piece of ham passed through his nose. Now it was staring back at me in the paper towel. To make matters worse there was a second piece I had to retrieve a couple of minutes later. The whole time Clone sat there all happy and proud of his ability to make nose ham.

I’m still kind of skeeved out by it.