Threenage Wasteland

Threenage Wasteland

By now, everyone knows the “terrible twos” are a myth.

Okay, maybe not a myth, because I’m sure they suck for many parents, but for many other parents, like Yours Truly, it’s year number three that proves to be far more harrowing.

Mom and Buried and I are now halfway through this “threenage wasteland” and we can’t wait for it to end.

Which, presumably, will be when he turns four, right? Unless there’s already some clever phrase for our son to live up to for that year, like the FOUR-ror Show.

Or maybe something better. Shut up.

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Opinion Hated

Opinion Hated

My son can talk, which is great. Less great is that he can’t seem to stop talking.

Seriously. My kid never stops babbling. But that’s okay. The trouble isn’t that he talks, or even what he says, since a lot of the things he says are cute. He says things he doesn’t understand, and it’s hilarious when kids say darnd things. I won’t brag and say my son says the darndEST things, because I’m not a braggart, and besides, that’s for Bill Cosby to decide. But Detective Munch definitely says some pretty darnd things.

The trouble begins when we actually listen to them.

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Swear Tactics

Swear Tactics

Over the weekend, my son unleashed his first swear word.

The chosen curse was “bitch!” And as far as Mom and Buried and I could tell, he didn’t direct it at anyone. He just kind of said it. And it was pretty evident that he had no idea what it meant.

But that didn’t stop the Buried household from doing some soul-searching. Nobody wants to raise an asshole.

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My Son is a Con Artist

My Son is a Con Artist

I used to question my son’s commitment to good manners, and my own ability to teach them. I figured some of it is my kid’s fault – something I’m not shy about admitting – and some of it is mine and Mom and Buried’s (but mostly mine, of course).

It’s easy to agonize over how well you’re instilling this stuff, until you realize what toddlers already know:

Manners are bullshit.

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