My fiesty friend Allison over at Motherhood, WTF? has a fabulous regular feature she calls WTF Tapas. It’s where she shares little snippets of the crazy funny shit her kids do and say that aren’t really big enough for individual blog posts. It’s brilliant. Do yourself a favor and check her out if you haven’t already (the links are at the end of this post).

We’ve had a lot of such moments over here in Beardsville lately so I thought I’d give Allison’s clever model a go. Incidentally, and I think Allison will appreciate this, most of my recent “Tapas” reflect those special parenting moments that make a mother look longingly at her spawn and think, “Maybe wolf spiders and hamsters are onto something.”

May I now present: Bearded WTF Tapas.*

*Not to be confused with Bearded WTF Tacos. That’s a whole ‘nother story. Feel free to  help me come up with a better name that’s less vagina-centric. ‘Preciate it.

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Bucket Head (4 year old son): “I wish I could touch a dinosaur.”

Me: “Oh yeah? What do you think a dinosaur would feel like?”

Bucket Head: “Kinda like your arm.”

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Nature Boy (12 year old son): “Mom, (giggle giggle)…you totally have a muffin top.”

Me: “Haters gonna hate.”

Nature Boy: “And potatoes gonna potate. Maybe you should do some sit ups.”

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Me: “You know, Bucket Head, if you ever get lost, honey, you should look for a nice friendly Mommy that you can ask for help. A nice Mommy will help you find me, okay?”

Bucket Head: “Otay. (sic) Or I could find a friendly animal and ride him back to you.”

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Mini-Me (9 year old daughter): “Mommy, don’t take this the wrong way, because I’m TOTALLY grateful for all the things Santa brought me this year, but…well…Kelsey and Rachel got some really cool stuff for Christmas.”

Me: (deep breath, trying to suppress my rage) “I’m totally taking that the wrong way. You got EVERYTHING you asked for…EVER-Y-THING. Next year, do a better job asking for what you want.” (Then I’m pretty sure I made the “Mmmm-hmmm” face, wagged my pointer finger in the air, turned on my heel, and muttered “Bitch” under my breath. Awesome.)

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Mini-Me: “Mom, do you like that sweater?” (Pointing to the new Christmas present I was wearing that my mom actually bought for me in Ireland.)

Me: “Yes. Why, don’t you?”

Mini-Me: “Well…it’s just that…it’s so…Momish.”

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Bucket Head (furious with his big sister Mini-Me): “I HATE YOU! I’m going to fart on your penis, you POOP HEAD!”

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Okay, I don’t want to end on a violent note, so here are two silly ones:

Bucket Head: “Please can I buy this cool Spectifyer?”

Me: “What? What’s a Spectifyer?”

Bucket Head: “This!” (pointing to a Pez Dispenser)

(You can read more about Bucket Head’s Speech Impairment here.) 

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Nature Boy (at the Christmas Tree Farm): “I wonder, is that a horse or a pony?”

Bucket Head: “It’s a horse. Ponies live in the sky and they have rainbows and horns on their heads.”

(I have no idea where he got that.  *cough cough* He’s obviously confused…)

(and/or watches WAY TOO MUCH TELEVISION)

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Yeah, if they weren’t so cute, I’d definitely eat them. No question.

[DISCLAIMER: Human cannibalism is a crime punishable by law. The Bearded Iris does not endorse consuming children.]

Thanks again to Allison at Motherhood, WTF? for the WTF Tapas inspiration!

Keep it classy,

-Iris

© Copyright 2012, The Bearded Iris. All rights reserved. Don’t be a poop head or Bucket Head will fart on your penis, whether you have one or not.