Cael's language has always been questionable, but he hasn't used any particular phrases repetitively until this week, after a misunderstanding turned the word "crocodile" until "taco dial". Almost immediately, tacos sprung up in every conversation and in multiple incarnations until he settled on one in particular that seems to have stuck... taco supreme.
In the words of Graham, oh great.
Credit to Taco Bell |
"Check out this huge tower I made with the magnet tiles, Mom. Oh, yeah, taco supreme!!"
"It's really windy outside, Mom. It's blowing taco supreme hard out there."
"Graham, give that back! You are such a cheese weasel!"
(Okay, that last one wasn't about tacos. But what the heck is a cheese weasel?)
I should probably knock on wood that I'm not dealing with profanity at this stage, although that has popped up time and again, thanks to new friends at school with new words to share. But I do long for the simplicity of the days when Cael was little and his best means of expressing his frustration was to repeat Thomas the Train's locomotive-related outbursts. Fizzling fireboxes! Cinders and ashes!
Now times are more complicated and here I sit, with a sarcastic four year old, a six year old with an affinity for mexican food-related comments, and an ever-growing bump in my belly that still doesn't have a name.
"Hey, Mom. You know what would be a good name for the baby? Taco Supreme!"
"Oh, great, Cael..."
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Leave your own "ism". Cael and Graham double-dog dare you.