I love the honesty in children. From day one, they make no excuses. If they're hurt, they cry. If they're tired, they sleep. If they're hungry, they eat. That honesty amazes me daily.
Juni is beautifully, brutally honest. Like the time when he said "Mommy...I love your big fat belly. It's just so warm and soft. Mmmmm."
Thanks, son.
Yesterday, my grandmother Corky asked Juni if he had to potty, since his hands were grabbing his crotch. "No. I just scratchin' my balls."
Excellent. Thank God my Corky didn't hear or understand him. She's the most uber-conservative, ultra-mannered woman I know.
Juni is slowly learning social etiquette's, which makes my job less embarrassing. But at the same time, it makes me a little sad. He's learning to not be completely honest at every moment. He's learning not to speak his mind every chance he gets. He'll learn the cool dance moves instead of moving his toddler body so freely to the music. In short, he'll grow up. Which is wonderful and sad mixed together. But at least he won't be telling his grandmother about scratching his balls.
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