My Nephew: Corrupted Toddler

Now that I'm home for the summer, it's my responsibility to take my nephew, Alejandro, to gymnastics practice every day. He's the love of my life, so I'm all about taking him here, there, and everywhere. Needless to say, we do a lot of aunt-nephew bonding. A part of that is our post-practice ritual of hitting Baskin Robbins, Cold Stone, or Dairy Queen and then playing games and watching cartoons after returning home.

I was on my way out earlier this afternoon when my cousin, Alonso, stopped by and opted to come along. I guess after 8 straight hours of MVP 2005, he was looking for a change in scenery. We scooped up the little man and aside from a minor traffic entanglement with a black Silverado that insisted on battling me for road position (on a 3 lane highway), the drive was rather tame. Alonso and I went back and forth about the surging Marcus Giles while my nephew entertained himself with road signs. But then Alejandro asked, "Aunt Aminan?" (he can't say my name) "How do you say o-t-h-e-r?" "That word is other." "Other?" "The t-h make a thhh sound, you see?" "Yes! Thhhhhhh!! Thhhhhhhh!!" It's a good thing I'm around since he misses Sesame Street every day. Alonso and I continued our conversation but in the background, I heard, "My... my... othhhhhher.... what's t-o-y?" "Toy" "Ohhh! Toy has a... sss..ssss.......... Aunt Aminan? How do you say s-e-t?" "That's set, buddy. Set." "Set!" I patted him on the head. "Of... t..t..tiiiii..tiiiiii...."

"Aunt Aminan!! Know what?"
"What's up?"
"My other toy has a set of tits!"

As I internalized the words just uttered by my precious nephew, a wave of shock and horror fell over me. He just said the word "tits." And worse, he was still saying it.. "tits tits tits tits!!! That's fun to say Aunt Aminan!!!" I told him to stop but he wouldn't. He clapped and said tits. Laughed and said tits. Tits tits tits. I asked him, in my most stern coolest aunt in the universe tone, where he'd heard such a thing. "Duh Aunt Aminan, the black truck." And sure enough, there it was, affixed to the tinted cab window in white block print: My Other Toy Has A Set of Tits. I resolved right then to pull alongside the Silverado and throw out my best evil stare... I'd leave it to Alonso to provide the childish, obscene gestures. But before I could.. "Aunt Aminan?" I looked at him, unable to imagine what could possibly come next. "What's tits?" I nearly drove off the road. Wasn't this a conversation his mother or father should be having with him? Or my parents, maybe? Should I just ignore him?? Why me? I didn't hear the word tits until I was at least 8 and it was when my dad negligently allowed me to watch Beverly Hills Cop 2 with him and his buddies when my mom wasn't home... I learned a lot of words that day. But still! I don't know how these developmental issues work and the last thing I want to do is ruin him for life. Knowing my luck, he'd say it everywhere and when asked where he learned such a word, he'd happily clap and shout, "Aunt Aminan!" It was then that Alonso piped in from the backseat, "Hey Ro, tits are breasts. Everyone has them. You, me, everyone!" "What's breasts?" Alonso reached his hand forward and pointed his index finger at my right one... "That's one right there!" "Ohhh, mommy has those!"

I pulled the car over... Immediately.

After getting out, I encouraged Alonso to join me on the roadside. When he did, I beat him in the head and body until he cowered in the grass. Then I got back in the car, declared a quiet time, swung by the Dairy Queen drive thru, and headed home. We pulled into the garage around the same time my dad and brother, clad only in shorts and shoes, walked outside. Alejandro climbed out the car and took off towards my father, arms stretched to the sky, and full of excitement...

"Papa!!!!"
"Ohhhh, it's my hombrito!"
"Papa! I see your tits."
"My what???"
"And they are hard like rocks!"

We'll be taking a different post-practice route tomorrow afternoon. I'm not taking any more chances.