November 30, 2005
Charlie has a new favorite word
It’s ‘hooker.’
Last night he and Wade were hanging out in his room (which means that Wade was half asleep on the bed and Charlie was taking EVERY SINGLE THING out of his closet and piling it all in the middle of the floor). He came hopping out of the closet and said happily, ‘Daddy, look what I have!’
Without opening his eyes, Wade said, ‘What is it, buddy?’
‘It’s a HOOKER!’ Charlie announced, waving a hanger in the air. ‘I found it in my closet!’
Wade said, ‘Go show Mommy. And be sure you tell her what it is.’
He came running into Henry’s room, waving the hanger and yelling, ‘Mommy! I found a hooker in my closet! I have a whole bunch of them in there!’
And I said, ‘Can you say, “This sure is a purty hooker?”‘
Then Wade got him to say, ‘This is my favorite hooker!’
I’m pretty sure there was something about it costing ten dollars, too. It went on like that all evening.
This morning at breakfast, he said to me, ‘Where’s my hooker?’ And when we left for school, he said, ‘Can I take my hooker to Starbucks with me?’ At that point it just got wierd (he was carrying a red, child-size hanger around with him!) so I made myself stop laughing and talked him in to taking some superheros in the car. And that was the end of the hooker.
Posted by Susan @ 8:25 pm • Uncategorized
RSS feed for comments on this post.
TrackBack URI
November 30th, 2005 at 8:52 pm, Andie D. Says:
This just proves that one of the main arguments FOR having children is the laugh factor!
November 30th, 2005 at 9:11 pm, L. Says:
This reminds me of when my Japanese (non-native English speaker) husband innocently asked me what a “ho” was.
“Oh, it`s slang for a prostitute,” I said, unaware that he was referring to a supermarket in our neighborhood called “Westward Ho,” until he asked, with horror, what that was all about.
November 30th, 2005 at 9:13 pm, the ockers Says:
the boys got class
November 30th, 2005 at 10:32 pm, theyellowwallpaper Says:
It’s great that you write these stories down so that later, you can whip ‘em them out and chuckle.
A friend of mine from South Africa has a son, who carries around a stuffed cat he refers to as “Ta ta’s.” One day she expained that “he loves his ta ta’s and can’t go anywhere without ‘em.” I, of course, chuckled. She looked at me puzzled, but soon laughed once I explained what “ta ta’s” were slang for…
November 30th, 2005 at 10:56 pm, adria Says:
That was so flipping funny. I have tears rolling down my cheeks.
Thank Charlie for the hookers. The question is what is he telling his friends at school about this incident?
December 1st, 2005 at 7:49 am, Candace Says:
That’s awesome!
Reminds me of when Christopher was little little and said “fuck” for sock.
Me: Christopher, what are those?
Him: My fuck an shoes!
Oh, the hilarity!
December 1st, 2005 at 8:19 am, Misfit Hausfrau Says:
“Why you laughing?” asked Ella just now as I was howling at my computer screen. That was hilarious!
December 1st, 2005 at 8:29 am, ieatcrayonz Says:
So, where are you keeping the dead hooker? In the trunk of your car, I hope.
December 1st, 2005 at 9:21 am, Kristen Says:
I, too, am wondering what Charlie is going to say about this at school: “My mom and dad made me leave my hooker at home today.”
December 1st, 2005 at 10:58 am, Nancy Says:
Hi, I am de-lurking to say this was HILARIOUS! Thanks for the great laugh!
December 1st, 2005 at 11:59 am, Penny Pressed Says:
Poor Charlie. First it starts with a bunch of hookers, then it becomes a favorite hooker. And then it becomes expressing an obvious (and intrinsically male) desire to take his favorite hooker to Starbucks. Whatever you do, make sure he doesn’t catch “Pretty Woman” on TBS.
December 1st, 2005 at 12:01 pm, Kara Says:
I LOVE IT!!
when i was 10, my dad took me to new york city and our hotel was right in times square, which back in those days was *not* a family place. i told him that the thing i wanted to see most in new york city was a hooker. so, like any good dad would, he took me out on a hooker hunt.
i’m not sure we found any but it was SO much fun.
December 1st, 2005 at 12:36 pm, Dawn Says:
Are you sure that the gender of the hooker is correct? Kids this age will tell you that “Boys have Boy hookers”.
Now that may raise some eyebrows at school
December 1st, 2005 at 1:29 pm, ieatcrayonz Says:
A hooker hunt in NYC? That’s what I call quality family time.
Yeah, I’d go to NY for that.
December 1st, 2005 at 3:41 pm, kyra Says:
SO FUNNY! HA! love it. i had a friend who’s son got a new action figure doll. he LOVED this doll with the name DUKE emblazened across his mini-chest, loved him with all his heart. that night after dinner, he pushed his plate away and looked dreamily into the air and then said, i think i’m going to go play with my dick.
of course, he was young and not a very good reader and he thought his little Duke doll was a little dick doll. tee hee
December 1st, 2005 at 9:06 pm, leah Says:
That’s awesome. I had to read it out loud so dh could enjoy it as well. I can’t wait until my little guy is talking. Who needs TV?
December 2nd, 2005 at 12:35 am, Wendy Says:
This is very similar to a story about my husband as a kid. His mom was playing tow trucks with him, and he liked the way that she hooked the cars onto the tow truck. So he said, “Mom, you make a great hooker!” We hear that story a lot… and the one about his swallowing all those iron pills as a toddler and almost killing himself.
December 2nd, 2005 at 3:14 am, Mary P. Says:
Hookers, fuck an shoes, hos… what would we do without children to bring hysterian into our lives? Oh, my poor aching stomach…
December 3rd, 2005 at 10:55 pm, Callie Says:
That is TOO weird. My two-year old Quinn just started calling hangers “hookers” a few days ago. Honest, I am not making it up. I almost blogged about it, but now I am glad that I didn’t because people might have thought I was just ripping off your story! But just know that there is at least one other closet around filled with “Ladies of the night.”
December 5th, 2005 at 11:02 am, Tonya Says:
That is hilarious! My son used to say “fuck” for fork. It was so nice at my grandmother’s wedding dinner (she remarried after being a widow for years) when he announced, loud as could be, “Where’s my fuck?”
My daughter also wanted to name a stuffed animal “pussy.”