Look What I Have Daddy

One day, a long time ago, my oldest son Joseph came running to greet me when I came home from work. He was squealing, "look what I have daddy, look what I have". His arms stretched high to show me as his little feet pattered like drum rolls on the bare floor below him. With a huge pride induced smile I asked him, "what is it son?" He replied, "it's a piece of s#!t daddy, it's a piece of s#!t".

I struggled to contain my laughter, so as NOT to bruise my little boys ego. His mother, on the other hand, was howling and on the verge of tears when she heard those grown up words coming from an angelic mouth. I was wondering to myself, "where could he have learned such a thing?"

After a minute, she proceeded to tell me about her and Joe's day. Apparently they had gone to the grocery store to pick up something for dinner that night and they were going to surprise me. As is the case at most check out lines there was a small, but tempting, display of toy cars just at eye level for a child sitting in a cart. "Buy this for me mommy, buy this for me" was the persistent chant from Joe as they snaked toward the cashier. Losing her patience and seeking to stop the incessant chanting she said, "OK, I'll buy you this piece of s#!t, but you'd better behave yourself.

She gave him the toy and all was well for the rest of the trip; at least till they got home.