the eugene bean

As my wise friend Wendy once said,

"There are certain pinnacles by which we, as a modern society, measure the growth and accomplishments of our wee ones.
Smiling.
Sitting.
Crawling.
Walking.
Talking.
etc. etc."

She went on to describe her oldest child's first bike ride sans training wheels, in her witty and touching style, and I was reminded of a similar milestone event that occurred earlier in the week with J.

He mastered the art of the word shit.

Well, he didn't quite master it. It's way too subtle, too useful, too perfect to be mastered by one so young.

But he did use the word shit correctly. In the middle of a good story, to add just a little extra emphasis to the really cool part, and it sure did make me proud.

J: (breathless from running up the stairs)... and I was playing and I was having so much fun and I was trying to throw a ball at the roof to get down a bag that was up there and then the wind was blowing and it wasn't coming down! and then I looked down at my sweatshirt and I was like, Oh Shit! It was totally soaking wet. It had been raining the whole time and I didn't even notice!

And then he ran out of the room at full speed, the same way he had entered it, and was gone.

And Ty and I exchanged grins because not only is he cute and energetic and easily amused, he can now use curse words to get his point across in what I feel is a wholly appropriate manner. He's smart enough not to say them at school, he doesn't yell them at kids on the playground, he doesn't even glance at Ty and I to see if he's gone too far because he Already Knows Those Limits and that is a beautiful thing.

Somehow I doubt E will have the same finesse.