So I once read a blog about gross things kids had done. Someone posted about how a kid ate a snail. Someone else said something about finger painting the wall with feces. At the time, the grossest thing my kid had ever done was The Great Poopy Plane Caper. While that is still the filthiest thing my child has done, he did a pretty repulsive thing today.
First, it should be noted that Garrett is a very tenderhearted little guy. If you tell him that something hurts, he is quick to kiss it. When I had the stomach flu last week he brought me another pillow and then kissed my stomach and wondered why I wasn't healed. I've yet to explain to him that only a mommy's kiss has the ability to magically fix owies. Somewhere during the short 28--29 tomorrow--months of Garrett's life he decided that moles are boo-boos. I have a mole next to my bellybutton and my son constantly kisses it, hoping, I suppose, that he will one day fix it. He will point to the mole on my arm and say, "Mole." He then follows this with a kiss. Freckles and zits are also "moles" and, therefore, warrant kisses.
Our dog has one place on his body that is not covered in hair and, for some reason, is freckled. It's his...oh I almost can't even talk about this...male parts. Specifically, the male parts that wouldn't be there if he were neutered. Our dog also likes to lay on his back, displaying his goods for all the world to see. I think you can all see where this is heading.
Today I was cleaning the kitchen and Garrett was playing in the family room. Beck was taking an afternoon snooze, on his back, puppy-making anatomy proudly, well, just hanging out. It got quiet and I looked down into the room. Garrett was staring at the dog's little boy parts. Then he poked them. "Garrett, don't poke the doggie there, okay? He, um, doesn't like it."
"Mommy," a look of deep concern spread across his face, "Mole. Owie."
"No, bud, they aren't moles. It's okay. The doggie isn't hurt. Come here."
"Mommy, me kiss." I know his grammar needs improvement but that was hardly at the top of my mind right then.
"No--" But it was too late. With all the tenderness my toddler could muster, he bent over and kissed the dog. Garrett looked at me and smiled. And the dog looked, well, confused. I vomited a little in my mouth I think.