Death by DQ spoon

My Bubba. He may look sweet, he may look adorable. That boy has issues. I am sure of it.


Last night he threw his Dairy Queen spoon at a bird and yelled "DIIIEEE"

*bites nails*

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Remember his artistic ability?

Seems he's stopped drawing pictures, but the talk of "kissing private parts" is still around...and last week, he stood in the corner for talking about it outloud.  In the dr's office.

Boy how I love disciplining my child in public.

NOT.

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Sometimes I feel like I could make this whole blog about crap Bubba does...some good, but mostly the bad.

He's got a potty mouth (along with the other inappropriate talk).

The other night Buggy sat down and asked if she could make a list of rules for our house.

I told her that was a fantastic idea and that all of us should come up with rules together.

One of the rules was no bad words, she added no flipping of the middle finger to that rule.

Bubba reads it, looks at me, gets his naughty dimples and walks away.

I am proud of his reading ability, but I know that his little mind was ticking. Specifically ticking towards how can I tick these girls off. Damn Mothers.

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This morning we were all in our very small bathroom brushing our teeth.

Bubba has his first loose tooth, he is in the mirror wiggling it (the tooth this time), wiggling it some more (still the tooth).

"When is it going to come out, Mom?" (Tooth)
"When it's ready bud."

"HOLY SHHHHHHHHHHHH" he looks at me from the mirror. "Can I say it Mom? Can I say the S-H word?" He grins, his little tooth hanging by a thread.

"No." I give him the look of c'mon are ya kidding me?

I gave him a list of other words to use in the place of the S-H word. Maybe in some households, crap and poop aren't appropriate, but in our house...it's the better alternative.

I pick my battles.

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Ha. To think someone nominated me for a parenting blog.

FAIL.