A moment ago I was taking my son in his stroller to daycare, and when we got just outside the playground I held out my hand and said, “OK, now give me your gum.” Don’t worry, it’s the good kind of gum, not the kind that gives you cancer (according to my younger health-conscious sister there are two varieties of sugar-free gum: xylitol – no cancer, the other stuff – cancer). So he leans forward and spits out the gum into my hand, then there is a fraction of a second pause that gives my brain enough time to think, “Huh, what is going to happen now?”
What happened is that he spit out whatever saliva he had in his mouth into my hand on top of the gum. I could tell he was trying to be helpful and follow instructions. For him, the sentence “OK, now give me your gum” means, “Please empty your mouth of all its contents into my hand.” Which, by the way, is a very useful sentence to know, particularly at your dinner parties when you forget to buy dessert but want to wrap things up anyway.
Standing outside the preschool this morning, though, I thought that there are worse things that could happen than having my hand filled with the warm spit of my son. Still, I think it is time I teach him that spit is not only a verb, but also a noun.
February 4, 2009 at 1:55 pm
There are several parts of this playground/gum story that intrigue me. I’ll leave it up to you to guess which parts.
February 4, 2009 at 2:02 pm
Ha! Nice. As a very little kid I recall thinking, “I guess love is probably the reason my parents always have to hold my coat and stuff when we spend all day at the museum, and also why they ask me to spit things out into their hand.” How funny to see it from the other side now, and it’s still true.
February 5, 2009 at 2:46 am
Yet another reason why you rock as a dad. I love that you’re so patient to think, “OK, this was not what I expected. No worries. Tomorrow we’ll have a lesson on parts of speech.”
I would say “Hooray for spit-covered love,” but that would sound a bit dirty.
February 5, 2009 at 6:56 am
Man, you know you’re a parent when you’d rather catch what’s coming out of their mouth than let it hit the ground/rug. And you do it automatically, and without flinching. Weird club we’ve joined, isn’t it?
February 6, 2009 at 3:18 pm
This post made me realize that I would like one day to have a son who spits into my hand (preferably not actual spit though).
February 12, 2009 at 12:17 pm
Andrea: I totally agree, there is nothing more intriguing than a handful of spit
Molly: Haha, it is true. I liked hearing about your parents doing this for you
Megan: When my son is older and no longer thinks I’m cool I will refer him to your comment, haha.
Ginny: Haha, I guess the club does have it’s benefits. Though it might be unfortunate that I am so comfortable telling poo jokes these days…
Dragonseast: In the store just ask for a son with artifical spit, or better yet, one that instead produces vodka. It will come in handy.