There were things I expected to say to my children when I got into this whole parenthood thing. Things like "don't eat that" and "put your pants on" and "stop drawing on the walls" or "do your homework".
Then, there were the things that took me by surprise. "Don't put that in your butt" was one, and "NO! DON'T PUSH YOUR BROTHER DOWN THE STAIRS!!" was another, but most recently, "If you make me faceplant into broken glass, you will be in so much trouble" took the cake. -- Anon Guest
[AN: Honestly, one could collect a whole encyclopaedia's worth of "Things I never expected to say as a parent" and there would still be new submissions by volume 128...]
Some things about parenthood are universal. Some are timeless. Some are both. Parentals of all genders, identities, and relations to the young have heard themselves saying things like, "What have you got?" in a semi-warning tone. Phrases like, "No you can't," or, "Get that out of your mouth," or, "Stop messing about," or, "Put that down," are so common that they might become rote.
It's the other things unique to the situations at hand that end up stunning the adults in the room. For perfectly logical reasons, various parentals have had to say such things as, "Get down out of there before you fall down out of there," or, "That is not for your bottom," or, "That is neither nutritious nor delicious," or, "Back-to-front, dear."
A parental would have a perfectly logical reason to say, "You have your feet on backwards," for instance. Today, in this family, in this house, it was, "I thought I said that should stay buried." It's not easy living in a household of natural necromancers.
The small child in question was holding what had once been a small fluffy pet. It was still small, but it was no longer fluffy. Or, for that matter, truly alive. It was, in fact, dripping bits all over the floor. "I missed 'im," complained the kid.
"Bebe... Pickles is too messy to be inside right now. Look, you've tracked smelly bits all over the place."
Bebe looked. "Aw. Uh. I could... I could... I could put Pickles in my pocket?"
Considering that was how Pickles met it's first demise... "I don't think Pickles will like that. How about you put Pickles in the outside cage and then we clean up the smelly bits."
Bebe pouted and squeezed her deceased pet, which squished and dripped. She sighed, "Oh... kay..." and trudged back outside, Pickles dripping with every heavy step.
Ana sighed at the scene and fetched out the gross rags. Understanding death was one thing, but understanding decay was another. Especially with what she called the family knack. First order of business, clean the child. Second, and far more difficult, help the child clean their mess. Third, and Ana's ongoing battle, was making Bebe understand that undead pets had to be skeletons before they were allowed back indoors.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Beloborodv]
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