Sunday, October 01, 2006
What Did You Say??!!!???
My son Buster just turned 9 years old last week. Unfortunately, he suffers from an ailment that directly descended from the genetics of his Great-Grandma Dee. Buster seems to misunderstand and confuse things with alarming frequency. The problem is that it manifests in his mind as the gospel truth, and he's not easily swayed to the contrary. Sometimes, it does make for a good laugh though.
We went bowling this summer and all Buster could talk about was how much he loved "juiceboxes." I mean, who doesn't enjoy the delightfulness of artificial flavors and preservatives and colors crammed in a box for your drinking pleasure? Buster kept saying that he wanted to put money in the juicebox and then listen to it. I thought, well, ummmm, okay, perhaps the kid is planning to utilize it as a makeshift piggy bank and wants to hear the coins tinkle around inside it. It wasn't until he excitedly scurried over to the JUKEBOX in the corner and asked me if he could have some money to play a Backstreet Boys song that I figured out what he meant. It meant that he both confused "juicebox" for "jukebox", and that he has really crappy taste in music.
Granted, we do live in Texas, self proclaimed Tex Mex restaurant capitol of the world, but Buster even got confused with that, referring to cell phone "text messages" as "TEX MEXages".
The latest in his ever expanding doofy repertoire happened last night. I checked out a Cirque Du Soleil DVD from the library because heaven knows we could never possibly afford 8 tickets to such a grandiose performance. It's the circus where humans perform, not animals, and it completely mesmerized my kids. Confident that this was something they could watch unattended, I turned my attention back to my book reading. Then I heard Buster spitting with built up fervor as he shouted out, "That man is walking on crotches! Look at him walk on those crotches." Immediately, my internal Mommy mode switched into high gear and I snapped to attention. The screen showed only a man dressed as an injured insect hobbling across the stage on CRUTCHES. So, I shook my head and resumed my reading. Then, Buster sputtered out again, "Look, he DANCES WITH CROTCHES!" That struck a nerve and all my girls that understood his error couldn't stifle the rolling fits of giggles that followed. Poor Buster, he just kept shrugging his shoulders and saying, "What? What's so funny?"
My son just single handedly came up with the plot and title for the long awaited sequel to Kevin Costner's classic, "Dances With Wolves." Royalty checks may be made out to THE SMILING INFIDEL, ok' Kev?