"I was in a line at a big book store with my daughter, who was about 6 at the time. While I was in the busy line, my daughter was looking at the books on a rotating stand. Little did I know that on that stand was a small book of dirty jokes. Just as I was being served, my sweet and innocent daughter decided to proudly show her reading and joke telling skills.
'Dad,' she shouted out to me, 'what's the best thing about getting sucked off?'
Everyone in the line started quietly chuckling while I tried to distract her and simultaneously pay to get out of the show as fast as possible. The girl behind the register was desperately trying not to laugh and looked like she was in pain. Because I didn't answer immediately, my daughter repeated the question.
By that point, everyone's shoulders were going up and down as they were silently laughing. I paid and quickly grabbed my daughter and put the book back. As we quickly moved toward the door, she shouted, 'Five minutes of silence!!' The line erupted with laughter while I practically ran out of the store."
"I have three sons and there's an age gap. When my youngest, 'Jimmy,' was 4 and my second oldest, 'Timmy,' was 14, they had an incident. See, Timmy liked to teach Jimmy naughty things to say. He taught him things like 'The Peanut Monster,' which is the tale of how girls become girls.
The Peanuts Monster was to be feared. All babies are born boys and when you do something really bad, The Peanuts Monster sneaks in at night, cuts your peanuts off and leaves you with girl parts. And, then, you're a girl. So, Timmy would threaten Jimmy that if he told me any of the naughty things he was taught (mostly bad words), The Peanuts Monster would visit. I found this out when Jimmy was telling the tale to my neighbor while we were over for coffee. At the end of his story, he leaned over to pat her knee.
'Do you understand now?' he asked my neighbor. 'You did something bad, so now you have girl parts.'
How that dear woman kept a straight face, I'll never know, but the moment he turned his back, she lost it. She laughed so hard, she had tears running down her face. But that's not the end.
Timmy had a large group of friends over and Jimmy was bugging them, as little brothers often do. Timmy had to poop, so he was in the bathroom that shared a wall with his room. I heard yelling, so I was on my way to see what the deal was. Timmy was yelling insults from the john at Jimmy and, as I got to the bedroom, I heard Jimmy yell back, 'Hey, Timmy! Don't forget to wipe your GIRL PARTS.' All of Timmy's friends were cracking up. It was hilarious. He deserved it because he taught him that."
"My 7 year old was feeling pretty spry. He took a straw and pretended to snort an illicit substance. Then, he picked up a kaleidoscope and looked through it.
'Dude...,' he then said to his brother, 'you have to see this.'
I couldn't stop myself from cracking up. Thanks a lot, elementary school for giving that awareness week. They claim they are trying to de-mystify abuse, but all I see at home now is heightened interest."
"My mother's best friend's daughter, Kathleen, was 5 at the time. She was at the local grammar school attending a performance of her older sister's school play. She got bored during the production, wandered out of her seat and into the hallway, where she promptly spotted the fire alarm and pulled the handle.
As many know, those alarms will squirt indelible ink onto the puller's hand as a way to cut down on false alarms. So, obviously, it was a false alarm, and the hunt was on. The principal quickly saw Kathleen's purple hands and confronted her about pulling the alarm. He gave her three or four minutes of grief. All the while, Kathleen was standing there with her arms folded across her chest. Her only reply is legend:
'Gimme a break - you know I can't read!'"
"When my kids were young, my parents split up due to my father's infidelity. We live on a small farm and one day, my son and I were talking about our chickens. We had a rooster my son had named King. One of our chickens, whom King hung out with a lot, was named Queen. Well, King decided he liked a different chicken better, as they often do. My son and I were talking about how King decided he wanted a different girlfriend.
'Just like Grandpa John!' my son exclaimed.
He wasn't wrong."
"My 5-year-old nephew was picking on my 3-year-old son, saying things like, 'I’m older than you, so that makes me smarter, too,' 'You’re nothing, because I’m bigger than you,' etc. I was about to step in and reprimand my nephew when my son reared back and lifted his hand into the air to give a typical toddler slap.
Instead, he made a fist and punched my brat-of-a-nephew square in the nuts. My nephew crumpled to the ground, crying. My son stepped over him, got down to eye level, smiled, and said, 'Who’s smarter now?' I was one proud daddy."
"My daughter has a FIERCE personality. She’s the perfect combination of my husband’s angsty bitterness and my devil-may-care, but I sure as heck don’t do sassiness.
We were at a mall play place. They have iPads in there. My then 5-year-old daughter and 3-year-old son were playing happily on two of the four iPads. The other two were unoccupied and there were, maybe, half a dozen kids on the play equipment. Eventually, it happened that a little boy about 8 or 9 decided he wanted an iPad. Not just any iPad, but the one my 3-year-old had. He came over and tried pushing my kid out of the way. My kid looked at me like What the heck?! But, he stayed where he was.
'Don’t be a bully!' my daughter piped in.
The 8-year-old kid tried shoving my 3-year-old forcibly and my daughter stood up and yelled, 'Stop being a meanie to my brother!!' His mom looked at me and chuckled.
'He really loves that particular iPad!' sh said to me.
'Yeah, but there are others he could play with with some guidance,' I replied.
Undeterred, this festering loinfruit decided to try and grab my 3-year-old’s arm and drag him away. I began to stand up to intervene, but I didn’t have to.
'I SAID NO!' my daughter screamed, and knocked him on his rear end. He didn’t see it coming at all!
Needless to say, his mother rushed over and grabbed him while I grabbed my kids and went the other way. I gave my kid $20 for the candy store and told her that I was proud of her for standing up for her brother. For the record, these two kids fight like freaking cats and dogs, but I’m glad they have each other’s backs when they need it."
"My great grandpa died at 97 years old. His wife, my great grandma, passed while I was still in high school, so my daughter never got to meet her. My daughter was 5. She kept going up to the casket during visitation to look at 'Pappy.' At the end of visitation, we got the kids ready and my daughter asked to go see him once more. I walked up with her this time since a lot of family had left and showed her the picture of grandma in the casket with him.
'This is your great grandma,' I told her. 'You never got to meet her.'
My daughter said loudly, 'BECAUSE SHE'S DEAD!'
There was just enough family left to make me embarrassed when I started chuckling. My pap would have found her blunt, correct statement funny if he were alive and if it was not about his wife."
"When my daughter was about 3, she was trying to slide at the McDonald's play place. This bigger, approximately 7/9-year-old girl shoved her, trying to go in front of her. My girl just socked her.
I think it was just a knee jerk reaction because she had never been physically bullied in anyway. At that point, I was fairly confident she never would be bullied going forward either."
"When my daughter was 4, I got a call while I was at work from her daycare. They wanted to see me. I went down there and they sat me down in the office with her. She looked upset and sheepish, so I assumed she had done something wrong. They started telling me about a 'situation' that she was involved with. She was in a fight.
On digging deeper, it turned out that the boy was a biter. Even my daughter had come home with his teeth marks on her back. Not just her, though. Apparently he would bit all the kids. Plenty of complaints were made, but his parents were trash and did nothing. The boy was teasing another little girl, who was a year younger and much smaller than he was. He had bitten her a couple of times already, and had her backed into a corner between two brick walls.
My daughter ran to her aid by putting herself between the boy and the other little girl. In the process, she gave him a stern push back. The boy became enraged that he couldn't sink his teeth in the flesh of the helpless 3-year-old girl. He screamed and growled and charged head first (teeth bared) at the two girls. My daughter, cool as a cucumber, sidestepped deftly, and pushed (OK, she slammed) his head into the wall. The boy shattered three front teeth, his face dripped blood, and he screamed like a banshee. My daughter calmly walked away, the other girl in hand, up to a carer and said that there had been an 'accident.'
At that point while hearing the story, I was doing everything I could not to cheer and give her a massive high-five. But, I calmly asked that she went to wait for me outside.
I asked them what the next step is. 'Is she to get some sort of award or something?' I asked.
I will never forget their faces. Their jaws were wide. 'Sir,' one carer said after a few moments, 'you don't seem to understand, this is very serious. The boy's parents are talking about pressing charges.'
'I understand just fine - my daughter put herself potentially in harms way to protect a smaller person from ongoing physical abuse from a known serial bully. If you aren't going to present her with an award, then we are done here. If his parents want to press charges, then I'll gladly give them the phone number for my legal counsel.'
I was bluffing. I don't know any lawyers, but I have to wear a suit and tie to work, so I figured I probably looked like I knew what I was talking about. I got up, walked out, put my daughter in the car, and hugged the crap out of her. She had ice cream for dinner that night. I never heard another word about it from the daycare center and the other boy never came back."
"My entire family is born and raised in Minnesota. My mom's husband was an Italian from Manhattan. He had the accent and mannerisms like a Good Fella. My brother Paul always gave him a hard time because of his accent and mimicked him constantly.
One day, we were hanging out outside in the backyard. My daughter, who was 4 at the time, went up to my brother, and said, 'Uncle Pauly! Uncle Pauly! Watch this!!'
She walked over to a pile of dog crap and PERFECTLY nailed the posture, hand gesture, and accent and went, 'What the fudge is thiiiis??!' only she did not say 'fudge...'
We knew since she was 2 years old that she was going to be HILARIOUS. She is 13 now and is confident, makes good eye contact, and makes everyone laugh with her humor."
"My son was not quite 2. We waited at the mall for pictures with the Easter Bunny, but he got a little nervous when the moment comes. The Easter Bunny handed him a little rubber ducky, which my son was thrilled about. The bunny handed another to him but, as my kid reached for it. The bunny snatched it back and patted his lap, in a clear gesture of, 'You can have another ducky if you sit on my lap.'
My son looked at the duck he already had in his hand, chucks it at the Easter Bunny, and literally stormed off. He was SO offended. I’ve never seen a baby that mad. Freaking Easter Bunny tactics."
"My younger sister was probably 7 or 8 years old, in elementary school. She was given an assignment to draw a picture of what life would be like without the government. It’s my understanding that most of the other children drew things like eroded buildings, bad roads, sick people, people foraging for food, etc. She ended up drawing an entire comic book of naked, anatomically correct hippies running around with automatic weapons. Most of the hippies were male, so there were a lot of wieners.
The school called my dad. They were threatening suspension because they had a zero tolerance policy for 'weapons,' including drawing them. Surprisingly, it wasn’t the massive amount of male genitalia. When they showed him the comic, my dad burst into laughter. At home, he gently told my sister that what she did was highly inappropriate, but then framed one of the pages and hung it up in the house."
"My cousin's son had a week recently in which he would say 'poopy' as an adjective for everything. He'd show off his poopy toys that poopy mommy and poopy daddy got him at the poopy store, and etc. My cousin and his wife couldn't stop laughing at it. Neither could I. He was being constantly validated for doing it. I haven't hung out with them since, but hopefully it eventually got dull enough that they could correct that."
"I will laugh at this memory to the end of my life.
My two sons were bickering. The youngest picked up a stuffed animal and hit the oldest with it.
'That didn't hurt at all,' the oldest said. 'See, I'm not crying!'
Well, that must have been a problem for little brother because he went to the toy box and dug around to find a plastic toy hammer, ran up, and, Thor-style, hit his older brother on the head with it. Then he dropped the hammer and said, 'You're crying now!!'
It took everything in my power not to laugh at the absurdity of his indignation and attack. I had to call my mother later so we could laugh about it."
"My daughter was maybe 3. We were in church with my parents. A guy across the church had eye surgery and had a patch. During a prayer, she saw him looked at him, covered her eye and went, 'Arrrr' like a pirate. Our pastor almost laughed mid-prayer."
"My coworker was telling us about her 3-year-old. He was being really bad, so she told him she was going call Santa. She got out her phone and did the whole spiel with pretending to call Santa and telling him how bad her son is being. After she hung up, they exchanged looks and she asked if he had anything to say.
'Call Santa back and tell him I said the S-Word!' he exclaimed.
She started laughing telling us this story at this point, but then continued that she told him he couldn't say words like that. He looks at her and said, 'Well, you can't hear me say this!' Then, he started mouthing the F-Word a couple of times in a row."
"My daughter called me 'Dude.' I taught her how to snowboard and, since then, I am no longer 'Dad.' I'm 'Dude' when we go to the mountain and my ex (her mom) is now 'Bro.'
My parents were all about 'respect.' Well, this is respect to me and my heart swells with pride when I hear 'DUDE, DID YOU SEE THAT!? I was going so fast!'"
"My 3-year-old put himself in time out at daycare because he figured out if he was in time out, he didn't need to help clean up. Then, the following year, we got an incident report because he yelled a bad word when the fitted sheet he was trying to put on his cot kept popping off.
I felt a fine line between, 'Crap, he got that from me,' and 'Word used appropriately... kind of impressed!!'"
"A few years ago, my kids lost their hamster, Sammy, up in their game room. He escaped his exercise bowl and they couldn't find him. In helping them look for Sammy, I moved the couch and discovered a huge hole. The couch hadn't always been in that spot, but things often got moved around in the playroom during sleepovers and I never questioned it much. When they realized I found the huge hole in the wall, they started defending each other.
I told them that they wouldn't get in trouble, but I needed the guilty party to help me patch up the wall. They both agreed to help. One of them may have accidentally let it slip that it happened when he was playing Nerf Shooter Soccer (no, I don't know the rules of the game since they seem to change every time I ask) with friends, but my daughter claimed that isn't what happened.
They are generally pretty honest kids and have agreed to let me know how it happened before I die. I am glad they stuck up for each other and always have each other's back. The effort to move the couch was also impressive. The hole got fixed regardless, but I really want to know what happened. That hole was massive. Sammy was found safe and sound, but has since died due to unrelated causes."
"When I was a kid, I was being a bit of a brat and whined to my dad about something I couldn’t do. I kept saying 'I can’t' over and over.
'Don’t say that. It’s a rude word,' my dad said, jokingly.
Now, I knew that the C-Word was a bad word, but I didn’t know how bad it was so I said, 'I’m not saying "[the C-Word]," I’m saying "can’t"!'
My dad was so shocked. Now, as an adult, my dad is always like, 'It was so unexpected. Just this innocent looking little kid casually dropping the C-bomb like it was no big deal.'"
"I was explaining to my 5-year-old that bad kids got coal for Christmas. She, of course, asked what coal was. My answer was a rock that has its uses, but not to a 5-year-old.
'Mommy,' she then said to me, 'I think I'm going to be bad for Christmas.'
'Why do you say that?' I asked.
'So, this way I can get coal for Christmas and put it in my rock collection.'
Trying not to laugh, I asked, 'Why don't you just ask Santa for some?'
My best friend and I are planning on having a stocking at my friend's house filled with coal as a joke. My daughter will love it."
"My daughter is 4 years old, and we just lost grandma. I was having a somber discussion with her about the situation and told her that Grandma died. She looked at me with her huge watery eyes, blinked, and said, 'Like Mario?'
You're really not supposed to laugh when teaching your preschooler about death, but I did."
"My 10-year-old acted out quite a lot over Thanksgiving weekend. When we got home, I told him I was keeping a toy he had ordered online at work until he could show us he could behave.
'Or,' he rebutted, 'you can keep it for a year and I can keep living my wonderful life.'
He has always been hilarious when he's talking back, but you can't let on that he's winning. When he was 3 and I'd try to give him time outs, he would try and turn the tables. He would push me into the bedroom, close the door on me, and shout, 'Dada! Your behavior is unacceptable!' It took everything I had not to laugh."
"Whenever my sibling and I got into fights, our mom would make us have 'rounds.' In each round, we would have to say one thing we liked about each other. At first we'd say the most ridiculous things through gritted teeth: 'Your. Hair. Is. Black.' or 'Your. Teeth. Are. Straight.' Honestly, best compliments ever.
Mom tried so hard not to laugh since she was in the 'stern parent' mode but, hey, it worked! Even my sibling and I realized how ridiculous we sounded, that we started to laugh and forgot what we were fighting about."
"The song 'Blue Christmas' came on the radio and my boys asked about the title. My oldest knew that 'blue' can mean sad, so he asked if it meant 'Sad Christmas'? My youngest asked why anyone would be sad at Christmas. I explained that sometimes holidays are tough because they might remind you of family that have died.
'This might be the first Christmas without them and you'll be sad,' I explained.
He replied, 'Yeah, you'll be sad because you won't be getting a gift from them.'"