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ninanevermoreToday on my drive into work, I was thinking about the story my son made up about the baby featured on his tube of Boudreaux’s Butt Paste* diaper ointment. According to my son, this baby has a mother and a father, but only the father loves him, and he only loves his father. His mother is a cold-hearted bitch who only loves her pets, and neither the baby nor the daddy lover her, either.
"Look," my son told me, pointing to the tube, "a baby!"
"Why yes, that is a baby," I agreed. "What does the baby have?"
"A bwanket," my son said.
"Uh-huh, a blue blanket. What else does he have?"
"Bwocks!"
I looked at the tube. "Yep, he has blocks. How many blocks does he have?"
"One...two...tree. Tree bwocks."
"What else can you tell me about the baby?"
"He's neckid!"
I smiled. This is not a toddler-mispronunciation of the work "naked;" this is the correct pronunciation when you are speaking with a Texas drawl. I am kind of pleased that my son has picked this up, but his father – who is from Washington State - always tries to correct him, by stressing, "NAKE-ed, NAKE-ed," which our son dutifully repeats back as "Neckid!"
"Yes, he is. His mommy should put some clothes on him so he doesn't get cold." Then, I ventured into dangerous territory by asking, "Do you think his mommy loves him?"
"No." My son shook his head.
"His mommy doesn't love him? Poor baby! Who do you think his mommy loves?"
"She lubs…her buppy dogs."
"She loves puppy dogs but not her baby? How sad! Does the baby love his mommy?"
"No."
"Then who does the baby love?"
"He lubs his daddy!"
"Does his daddy love him?"
"Yes."
"Does his daddy love his mommy?"
"No, his daddy lubs the baby."
"But not the mommy?"
"No."
"Only the puppy dogs love the mommy?"
"Yes."
I thought about this for a moment.
"I'll bet the mommy love the baby, anyway – even if he doesn't love her back."
My son acting disinterested. Who cares who the mommy loves? What matters is that the baby and the daddy have each other.
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When I told Jeff about our conversation, he tried to make me feel better by pointing out that when our son is with him and I'm not around, our son asks where I am. It's only because Jeff is almost never around that our son worships the ground he walks on.
"He loves you, but since he sees you every day, he can take you for granted," Jeff said.
"It didn't hurt my feelings," I replied. "This wasn't a story about us, per se. This was about the Boudreaux's Butt Paste baby. His mother is nothing like me. For one thing, she has more than one dog."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Love is a funny thing. Children who are loved and well cared for take their parent's love for granted, because it's something they've never lived without. The fact that my son can take my love for granted is a compliment, in a way. Since our son doesn't see Jeff except for twice a week, it is his father's love that he craves. He can be casual about my love, because it's always there. Jeff's love, which he can only bask in for two days at a time, shines like the sun for him. My ever-present love, on the other hand, is invisible. I take comfort when I look at the situation from this angle, and in knowing that at least the dog loves me.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
* Trust me, once you stop laughing at the name you realize that it's the best diaper ointment on the planet. It's also good for treating dry skin, in general. Keep a tube around the house, even if you don't have a kid.
"Look," my son told me, pointing to the tube, "a baby!"
"Why yes, that is a baby," I agreed. "What does the baby have?"
"A bwanket," my son said.
"Uh-huh, a blue blanket. What else does he have?"
"Bwocks!"
I looked at the tube. "Yep, he has blocks. How many blocks does he have?"
"One...two...tree. Tree bwocks."
"What else can you tell me about the baby?"
"He's neckid!"
I smiled. This is not a toddler-mispronunciation of the work "naked;" this is the correct pronunciation when you are speaking with a Texas drawl. I am kind of pleased that my son has picked this up, but his father – who is from Washington State - always tries to correct him, by stressing, "NAKE-ed, NAKE-ed," which our son dutifully repeats back as "Neckid!"
"Yes, he is. His mommy should put some clothes on him so he doesn't get cold." Then, I ventured into dangerous territory by asking, "Do you think his mommy loves him?"
"No." My son shook his head.
"His mommy doesn't love him? Poor baby! Who do you think his mommy loves?"
"She lubs…her buppy dogs."
"She loves puppy dogs but not her baby? How sad! Does the baby love his mommy?"
"No."
"Then who does the baby love?"
"He lubs his daddy!"
"Does his daddy love him?"
"Yes."
"Does his daddy love his mommy?"
"No, his daddy lubs the baby."
"But not the mommy?"
"No."
"Only the puppy dogs love the mommy?"
"Yes."
I thought about this for a moment.
"I'll bet the mommy love the baby, anyway – even if he doesn't love her back."
My son acting disinterested. Who cares who the mommy loves? What matters is that the baby and the daddy have each other.
When I told Jeff about our conversation, he tried to make me feel better by pointing out that when our son is with him and I'm not around, our son asks where I am. It's only because Jeff is almost never around that our son worships the ground he walks on.
"He loves you, but since he sees you every day, he can take you for granted," Jeff said.
"It didn't hurt my feelings," I replied. "This wasn't a story about us, per se. This was about the Boudreaux's Butt Paste baby. His mother is nothing like me. For one thing, she has more than one dog."
Love is a funny thing. Children who are loved and well cared for take their parent's love for granted, because it's something they've never lived without. The fact that my son can take my love for granted is a compliment, in a way. Since our son doesn't see Jeff except for twice a week, it is his father's love that he craves. He can be casual about my love, because it's always there. Jeff's love, which he can only bask in for two days at a time, shines like the sun for him. My ever-present love, on the other hand, is invisible. I take comfort when I look at the situation from this angle, and in knowing that at least the dog loves me.
* Trust me, once you stop laughing at the name you realize that it's the best diaper ointment on the planet. It's also good for treating dry skin, in general. Keep a tube around the house, even if you don't have a kid.
