I am that parent. The one that finds certain words my children say hysterical, and not because they pronounce them incorrectly – although that is adorable too. No I am talking the double meaning of words and the joy it brings me as a mother. There was the time my son asked me if I was scared of flying balls or when my daughter announced to my husband and I that she had a special hole. These little immature moments are what helps to break up the minutia of parenting.
Kids are very literal, they say what they mean and there is no possible alternative meaning. But us parents all realize that there are many other meanings to words. Like when they bite into the Taco Bell Cinnabon® and exclaim how hot and creamy it is inside! Or when your darling daughter shows you her latest back hand flip move and she looks like she is working a pole. Well tonight I had one delivered on a silver platter, at dinner no less.
My sweet 9 year old girl asked me, “Mom did you know that there are different kinds of ho’s?”
After I almost choked on my food and maintained a calm demeanor I replied, “Oh?”
“Yes, there are standard ho’s and other kinds of ho’s.”
Again, I retained a calm disposition and thought maybe I should find out where she learned about ho’s in the first place. (please don’t say Disney XD or You Tube)
“Hmm….where um did you learn about ho’s?”
“Today at school!”
And then I realized that she was talking about the gardening tool hoe not the working the street corner ho! Yes, these are two very very different ho’s, and a good reminder to not answer with your first instinct. Since I am all things immature I couldn’t pass up this opportunity to ask her questions about ho’s though.
“Wow, so what is a ho made of?”
“Oh you know, just wondering about the hoe’s that’s all. Tell me more about the hoe.”
“Well the standard hoe has those metal spikes, but I got to use the easy ho.”
“Oh yeah? Why was it easy? Were you able to plow the field quicker with the ho you had?”
“Oh my hoe had no spikes!”
“Oh so you had a spikeless ho? You don’t see that everyday!”
“Oh nothing, honey.”
She walked away probably delighted that I was so involved in her hoe conversation and I got a fantastic parental moment that would have been lost had she said rake instead of hoe. So win-win. I then went into my office and opened up my email and read that their school is offering a class titles “Making Things with Wood”. I wonder if it is the new sex-ed class?