With the holidays officially afoot I figure what better time than now to give the gift of a child’s curse. I’m not sure why it is, but in its purest and most innocent form a child’s curse is something a always brings a smile to my face. So what exactly is a child’s curse? Here is a prime example of one that I witnessed last Christmas while I was a my parents house with the whole family, including my five year old niece.
After indulging in excessive amounts of food, like you do, it was time to huddle around the television and watch my families holiday tradition of watching some kid in glasses shoot his eye out with an official Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot range model air rifle. My niece, was of the disposition that if the television was on, but not playing something Disney princess or Scooby-Doo related then it was not worth watching. This meant that while everyone else was down stairs watching the film, I was sitting on the floor next to the tree, upstairs, while Natalie played house with Barbie’s and Scooby-Doo action figures.
After Shaggy had turned down a marriage proposal from his third Barbie suitor… suitorette, I did my best to encourage her to play something else. Like maybe one of the Barbies could help Shag and Scoob with the Mystery of the solitary blinking Christmas tree light. It worked rather well… until…
Natalie ventured over to the tree with one of her Barbies to check out the light, then she noticed something under the tree. She put down her doll and picked up a hot pad and oven mitt set that was a gift to my mom. The set was covered in a holiday theme with reign deer and candy canes on them. The oven mitt looked a little like a puppet though. The thumb piece section of the mitt was made to be the bottom piece of the deer’s mouth. That way when you pulled a pan out of the oven it would look like it was in the reign deer’s mouth. If falls into the same realm as ugly holiday sweaters and was probably the same designer.
As Natalie is looking at it, she is filled with honest and genuine confusion. She walks up to me with the set in her hands, her brow lightly furrowed. Then, as she gently hands it to me, she asks in the most sincere and inquisitive voice I’ve yet to hear from a five year old, “What the hell is this?”
The problem with laughing at a five year old who is sincere and intent on getting an answer to the question they just asked is the have a tendency to think you are laughing at them. Her dirty looks only fueled my inability to gain my composure. Once she started crying, well, it stopped being as funny. Eventually I was forgiven, but it took one cookie and an ice cream cone, and Shaggy agreeing to marry the Barbie of her choice.
Of course I told everyone, promptly after I got her to stop crying. I just had to make sure she was not in the room when I told everyone… little people (kids) can be so sensitive. Still, there is something innocently smirk inspiring about a little kid cursing when they have no idea its considered a no no. It’s just a word to them. Something they picked up, probably from their parents… or me, but more than likely from their parents. I have a few more that I’m sure I’ll share at time goes on, but I figured this would be a good one to get you all started for the holiday season. Cheers.
So, do you have any kid curse stories of your own? I’d love to hear it.
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: what the hell, and cursing kid.
Christmas 2005. My uncle, the one I have talked about before in my atypical reads, thought it would be a really cool and nifty gift idea to get the young boys in the family, which was my Nephew Saxton and some kid of my long time brother’s girlfriend. Look, if you are not going to marry the cat, you should not expect the family to bore your child with lavish gifts. You might as well buy for your long time neighbor’s children while you’re at it.
Anyway, my uncle buys them both a jigsaw puzzle/ rubix contraption that forces you to work a tiny BB through a complex maze, which unlocks the box and allows you access to the twenty spot in the middle. A cool idea, if you want my opinion, but maybe not the best gift to give on Christmas…unless it’s for a neighbor’s kid or someone similar. I’m just saying.
So, they get their gifts and each stares equally puzzled by the money box. The bratty kid shakes the damn thing, hoping the BB will drop into the right place and unlock his money, and Saxton just looks around at everyone like, “Seriously? You got me a box I have to work out how to open to get my gift? Really?” Thus, you can imagine the look on my uncle own face when his crafty ideas start to fold.
My Uncle was visually bothered by their lack of appreciation and I could not blame him. You just gave 40 bucks to some ungrateful little snots, one of which has no relation to you either by blood or law, and both are giving you an evil look of death. Naturally, I added fuel by saying, “Look, I think whoever opens the box first, should get the money.” to try and inspire the little shits. The little asshole begins to cry and my brother takes the box to work it out for him. My nephew tries to open it, once, and then gives up with a flustered look about his face, and then goes back to his PSP.
Livid! Me, I mean. My Uncle did the best he could and then swore never to get anyone another gift again. And he didn’t. No one. Not even those who thanked him for their gifts. I guess to banish all versus a select few keeps things politically sound with everyone involved.
In the end, the money was distributed to the little brats and the puzzles tossed in the trash, after my uncle had left, but the damage was already done. Sleigh bells ring, are you listening? Chestnut’s roasting over an open fire. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
Scott,
That sounds like an awesome gift!!! Kids are little shits these days.
Oh man, the holidays at your house sound like what it it would be like to attempt to deep fry a water balloon, which under no circumstance should ever seem like a good idea at the time. 🙂 Funny story though, thanks Scott.
I can remember having my then 3 yr old daughter ask me “mommy what is ‘askholes’? Not understanding I said “I don’t know honey, what is that?” She said, “I don’t know but when we in the car you always talking to ‘askholes’, what is ‘askholes’??” I’m sure I turned three shades of red. Yeah sometimes I’d forget that they were in the car with me when I was driving.
Ha, that’s great! I remember the first time I got cussed out for swearing. In my mind and to this day what I remember saying is dang, but apparently what everyone else in the house heard was “damn”. With so may witnesses against me, I conceded that maybe I did say what they thought I did, but I’m still not sure. 🙂
About two years ago, we were pulling into traffic after going to the bank and some guy almost rear-ended us… my (at the time) six-year-old yells, “Oh shit!!!!” She knows she shouldn’t cuss but it is amazing that they are able to use them in the correct context. It took everything I had not to laugh.
Hehe, too funny. I think driving,, or at the very least being a passenger in a car, is one of those universal things in life that teaches everyone how to swear… and in the correct context. 🙂
When my brother was about three years old, my parents moved into their newly built home near the where my father was teaching at the time. As new residents of the area, they were the focus of some interest by various members of the community.
One of the interested parties happened to be a minister of religion of some kind. My father, catching a glimpse of him through the window, muttered, “Oh shit, it’s that damned priest!”
My brother, in the eager fashion typical of three year olds, ran to the door and opened it when the bell rang, and greeted the visitor with the question, “Hello, are you that damned priest?”
I don’t know who was more embarrassed – my generally anticlerical father, my somewhat religious mother, or the damned priest. 🙂
Haha, brilliant! Thanks Duncan, what a great story.
Blast! I left out the word “school” in my post. It should read, “near the school where my father was teaching”. Don’t you just hate typographical errors ?