My Toddler, the Potty Mouth...

Okay, well, he's not exactly cussing or anything, but the things that come out of my two-year old's mouth could only have been picked up from his siblings. I mean, the kid is a sponge. He absorbs everything, and retains it for later. For very opportune moments. Like, for instance, while Thing One was unwrapping her birthday presents monday night, Hubby was distracting Thing Four by tossing him in the air, and holding him up high in his hands.

Thing Four, like all my other children, has an irrational fear of heights. It's from Hubby's side of the family. So, imagine our shock when suddenly, my dear sweet angel baby shouted at the top of his lungs to his father:

"PUT ME DOWN, YOU MORON!!!"

We all gasped. It seemed unnatural, for such words to be coming from our little Thing Four. Then, of course, we all started laughing our heads off, which caused Thing Four to start repeating himself gleefully: "Put me down, you MORON! Put me down, you MORON!"

Great.

Cut to last night, where Thing Four was acting a little crazy and dancing to Halloween music, and he kept "falling down" at the end. (Such a ham.) At one point, Hubby stuck his toe out and nudged Thing Four in the rear end. Scandalized, he clutched his backside, and yelled out with a large delighted grin:

"DAD! YOU KICKED ME IN THE BUTT!"

What has happened to my little angel, who only says sweet baby things? He's become a human digital recorder, who spits out what he's recorded without warning. Literally. As I was trying to scrape up the last of his oatmeal to feed to him (he can't get the last part himself) he put both hands up to me and yelled:

"DOCTOR OCTAGONAPUS, BAAAAAAAUUUGGGHHHHH!"

No more Lazer Collection for his older brothers. Click here if you dare. (Pretty harmless, actually, but you'll know what I'm talking about. My older kids love this stuff.)

So, we had a "little discussion" with the older kids about how we need to curb what we say around our little sponge. No more letting him watch "older cartoons" or peeking over shoulders while we're on the computer.

Because I don't need my little cherub yelling "HOLY CRAP IT'S BUZZ LIGHTYEAR!" again in the church nursery. I think I might die from embarrassment.