Bosoms

My seven-year-old niece spent the day with us on Sunday. When I picked her up she said, "I read that webpage that had Jiro on it."

"You mean my blog?"

"Yeah, I tried to read the story, but it was too long."

"Oh, sorry."

"Why did you make it so long?"

"I didn't want to forget anything."

"Oh. I liked the pictures. I printed out the last one three times."

"Cool."

She chatted with the boys in the backseat for awhile and I overheard her say to Satchel, "Why were you jumping off the fence anyway?"

"I wasn't jumping, I was climbing," he clarified.

"On the website it said you were jumping," she said looking awfully sure of herself despite having admitted to skimming.

Anyways, we all went skating in Collierville (actually I skated, they ran/strolled around), then to Lenny's, then to the duck pond for a picnic with my long lost fellow bloggers. By 4pm, everyone was pretty much exhausted, feverish, or covered in duck poop. We decided to go home and rest before heading to my mom's house for dinner.

"You are a bosom," Satchel nastily said to Sutton as I put the stroller in the back of the car. (He'd been picking on her all day for some reason.)

"Bosom is not a word," she said matter-of-factly.

"Actually it is," I said. "It's another word for boobs." (See why I don't teach English?)

"Yeah, and you have bosoms!" Satchel said to Sutton victoriously.

"Well, not yet," I said. "She will when she's older."

"Yeah, and you are going to have bosoms too!" Sutton countered.

"No, actually, only adult women have bosoms," I corrected her.

"Nu-uh, my dad is a man and he has bosoms!" she said.

Once I had a nice hearty laugh, I said, "Those are actually called man-boobs."

Surprisingly the phrase "man-boobs" wasn't nearly as pleasing as "bosoms" because it was at least another hour before Satchel stopped coming up with reasons to use the word bosom.

"Mom, you are the only one in the car with bosoms."

"Daddy doesn't have bosoms, but Uncle Buttcrack does!"

"Is Jiro going to have bosoms since he has such fat skin?"

And so on...

Tonight after we got out of bathroom stadium, Satchel just looked at me and said, "Bosom."

Technically I guess it is an improvement over last week when he kept watching me change clothes and saying, "Ew, your thighs are fat."

Speaking of bathroom stadium, it's perfect for gimps.