I’m working at a university in Minneapolis today, at the Front Desk. A woman came in with her three or four year old son for an appointment, and ended up waiting for quite awhile. At first it was really cute–after a few minutes he turned to his mom and said, “So, Mom, how was your weekend last night?” Her answer was [while smiling and a slight smile at the cuteness her genetics produced] “My weekend last night? It was good, because I was with you. How was your weekend last night?” He parroted back the same line.
And then, it stopped being cute. A few minutes later he suddenly hit his mom on top of the head and said, “Douchebag!”
The mom looked at shock at her kid and said, “where did you hear that?”
“Daddy,” he said. He calls me that when he hits me on the head when you’re not around. And he calls you that too.”
“But that doesn’t mean it’s a nice thing to do. I know Daddy calls me that, but he shouldn’t call you that. I’m going to have a long talk with Daddy the next time I see him.”
“Yeah. Daddy needs a lot of time outs.”
The woman was here to enroll in the Marriage and Family Therapy master’s program.
