Sometimes I forget that Gaby is only three years old. Her vocabulary is better suited to an almost five year old versus that of a little girl who won't be four until late December. I'm not bragging, it is what it is. When you have parents and an older sister who do little else than talk all the time and who love to read and you're a toddler who loves being read to, well, your vocabulary is going to benefit. To top it off, she has great annunciation for a three year old. Most of the time.
I was in the kitchen washing dishes yesterday and in runs Gaby who excitedly asks me, "Mumma, mumma, guess what I saw on TV?" I turn around to see her blonde curls bouncing up and down, brown eyes sparkling with excitement and a smile that could bedazzle the crankiest of old geezers.
"What did you see?" I asked her.
"Oh mumma, is was really cool, on da TV I saw a pygmy mama shit! And den I saw anoder pygmy mama shit!"
The bottle of Dawn dish soap that I had been holding slipped from my hands, hit the counter with a thud then bounced and landed on the floor. The open bottle of dish soap was now spilling thick blue liquid all over my kitchen floor as I stood there, jaw hanging down to my knees, looking at my three year old who was bubbling over with excitement over what she'd just seen on TV.
"Gaby, what did you see on TV. Say it real slowly 'cause mumma doesn't think she heard what you said."
Even louder, as if trying to explain it to a deaf older relative, she stands on her tiptoes and nearly shouts at me, "Mumma, I saw a cute little pygmy mama shit on da TV!"
"Gaby, say it real slowly again for mumma, the birdies outside are being very noisy and mumma thinks she missed part of what you said."
Gaby places her hands on her hips and is clearly getting frustrated with her partially deaf mumma and says, "Mumma, put your listening ears on you head!" Very slowly and with a fair amount of exasperation she says, "I SAW A PYGMY MAMA SHIT."
I could not imagine what sort of channel would be airing something like this, let alone why on earth it would be on at toddler-o'clock in the morning. My first thought was, "Brilliant, now I'm going to have to block the National Geographic Channel!" Before I could grab the phone book to look up the number for Comcast so that one of their UNcustomer Service Reps could walk me through the process for blocking a cable channel, Gaby grabs my hand and starts pulling me towards my bedroom where she had been watching TV. As I walked down the hall, I was absolutely astounded that not only was there a little pygmy woman taking a dump on TV, but that my daughter even knew what a pygmy was. Just what the hell are they teaching her at that Montessori anyhow?
Then it occurred to me to ask Gaby a vital question. "Gaby, sweetie, just how do you know that what you saw was a cute little pygmy mama shit?
Once again she placed her hands on her hips and said, "Mumma dats a bad word. You not 'sposed to say dat! I saw dem on "Go, Diego, GO!" Diego has lots of pygmy mama shits on his show."
Lovely. Just freakin' lovely. Now I'm going to have to block Nick Jr. from our cable as well. Wait a minute! There's no way, as annoying as Diego is, that he'd show little pygmy women, pooping.
I sat down on the bed and asked Gaby to sit next to me, wondering just how I was going to explain what she'd seen when the show she had been watching returned from a commercial break. Once again she was all smiles and pointed to the TV exclaiming, "Look look, right der mumma! Awwwwww, can we please get a pygmy mama shit? Dey so cute!" I glanced up at the TV, remote in hand, ready to change the channel the moment I see a pygmy woman squat. What greeted my apprehensive gaze was not a crouching human, about to relieve herself, but this...
Pygmy Marmoset
...and not this...
The immediate sigh of relief I uttered was probably audible all the way to New Hampshire.
For the record, Gaby can now clearly tell me that she'd like to have a Pygmy Marmoset. She'll never get one, but at least she can pronounce it correctly.
Oh and Dawn dish soap is apparently fun to slip and slide around in, all over the kitchen floor, if you're a kitten. And can I just tell you that it's a pain in the ass to clean up?
