Paging Art Linkletter

My kid may still refuse to poop on the potty.

My kid may still expect a parade in his honour four times daily when he deigns to pee on the potty.

But my kid?

Has manners, folks, manners in spades.

Just a few nights ago, after helping him on the potty and (as per usual) thanking him profusely for being such a big boy and letting mommy know when he had to go he responded thusly...

"No, no, no, NO SIRREEE! I say thank YOU mommy...for making sure that my penis was behind the pee guard."

Sniff.

And they say parenting is thankless.

The curious case of the toddler Graham

Evidence is emerging that the soul of an old man - an old British man at that - lurks inside the body of my precocious three-year-old.

To wit, these gems have emerged, unsolicited, in the past few days...

"You know Mommy, that reminds me of an old story I once heard..." delivered in an attempt to forestall bedtime, with a knowing smile and a sage tilt of the head. (Seriously: he did the head tilt.)

"Pish, posh Mommy - don't be so silly."

And, after I apologized for losing my temper and screaming at raising my voice with him:

"That's quite okay Mommy, but I don't expect Daddy is going to be very thrilled with you."

Indeed.

Eddie Haskell in the house

"Damnit!" Graham blurted out last night when he spilled his orange juice.

I'd never heard him say that before and I was startled. It's pretty minor as far as swear words go, but not exactly what you expect to hear come out of your two-year-old's mouth.

"That's not really the nicest thing to say," I cautioned him, mopping up the mess. "It's better to just say something like shoot or darn."

"Sorry Mama, " Graham said. "I say shoot Mama."

"That's better sweetie," I said just a little smugly, feeling never more like June Cleaver. "Would you like some more juice?"

"No thank you Mama."

Could he BE any more polite? I smiled serenely and tousled his hair.

"Mama?"

"Yes Graham?"

"How 'bout a glass of wine?"

Damnit.