Back when Kiddo#1 was just a tiny baby, I’d sing him rude songs to put him to sleep. He was only a month or so old, and he didn’t care whether I sang Frere Jacques or We’re All Here To Drink The Whiskey, so why not sing whichever came to mind? I was sleep-deprived and new to the whole mom-thing. By the time he grew old enough to understand me, I’d switched to The Alphabet Song and other G-rated fare.
Other than the time I sang the Bourbon song, and he repeated it that night. It’s a good thing my Patient Husband is so Patient.
We’ve entered a new realm, though. I now have to watch what I say rather than just slipping in puns and satiric remarks.
Kiddo#1 said something about studying Ancient Greece in school. When he mentioned Socrates, I replied with “So-Crates.”
My Patient Husband laughed. I laughed.
A full minute of silence later, Kiddo#1 said in a voice tinged with horror, “Mom, when a Greek name ends in ES, it’s pronounced ‘ease’.”
I said, “No!” and laughed, and he said, even more worried, “Didn’t you know that?”
I explained to him about fine film-making and Bill And Ted’s Excellent Adventure, and how the two guys always said the name as “So-Crates” and that it was, you know, funny. He could groove to that: in his mind stupidity is a sin but deliberate stupidity, rather than becoming a mortal sin, is actually fine.
My husband said something about other names that were similar, like Sophocles and Euripedes, and that’s when I got myself in trouble and said “Testikles.”
(Keeping in mind that, as Gary Corby points out — or maybe it should be Gary Korby — all these names are more properly written with a K. But if you swap in an incorrect C…well…)
Back when I was in college, my friend Jenny invented a boyfriend named Testikles Pook. She’s immortalized in my heart because whenever I hear a name ending in “ease” I immediately think of Mr. Pook, and now you will too. Thank me later.
Even as the word came out of my mouth, my Patient Husband rolled his eyes, but Kiddo#1 laughed out loud. And that’s when I realized my foul mouth had gotten me in trouble. Or, more accurately, I’d gotten myself in trouble.
Later I said, “I can’t believe he caught that,” and the Kiddo called from two rooms away, “Of course I caught that! I wish I hadn’t!”
I guess your mom isn’t supposed to tell off-color jokes. Oh well. I’ve entered that season of my life where I need to be careful about such things.