When your husband says “Honey, you’ve got to come see this.” you probably shouldn’t.
“Elisa, you need to see what your son is doing!” Was the first herald of alarm last week. Knowing the profound wisdom in the statement written above, I was reluctant to hear the answer to my trembling and hesitant “Why?”
“Well, Andy is standing out in the back yard naked.”
Joy, joy. Yea. Woo-hoo. That’s just never a good thing. He WAS right, I HAD to go see what was going on.
I stepped out onto the back porch and looked. It wasn’t quite THAT bad. Andy was standing there… with at least his shirt on. The rest of him was butt-naked. His shorts were six feet from him in the grass where he had tossed them. His underwear were in his hand being whirled around like a pin wheel.
“Whee!!” Look, Mommy! It go round!”
“Andy, did you t-t in your pants?” I asked with the concern of a mommy with potty-training battle scars.
“No.” was the answer as the undies continued to spin around and around.
“Are your pants wet?” I asked, wondering why on earth he took off his pants if he didn’t have some sort of accident in them.
“No.” was the blunt reply.
Dreading the next answer I asked cautiously “Why did you take your clothes off?”
Andy replied with the proud gusto of a three-year old who had just learned a new trick
“So I do dis!” and he spun the Hot Wheel underwear briefs at RPM’s that any muscle car would have been proud of.
That’s right folks. Andy took off his clothes so he could twirl his undies in the air. And what did my husband say as I looked and him, my head, my leader, my soul-mate, wondering what we should do next. What does he say as he begins the giggle jiggle, but “Honey, don’t laugh!” As if that’s at all possible!
You have to understand, this is not the first such situation. Last week, Timothy was looking for Andy at Vacation Bible School to take a photo. So he asked a Team Leader where Andy was.
“Out front. Peeing in the bushes.”
Yes. There Timothy found the pastor’s eldest son, pants around the ankles eliminating on the bushes out in front of his father’s church, where all could see, but somehow...didn’t. We’ll just say that it was not another “Kodak Moment.”
And then there’s Saturday evening in the front yard of our house. (Yes, you guessed it happened again.)
“Honey, you need to come get your son!”
At this point I must stop and point out something critical that you all may have noticed all ready, but said issue has yet to be addressed. Why is it that when OUR children do something that they should be doing fully clad, but alas are beautifully adorned with a gorgeous smile of “FREEDOM!!!WHEE!!!” that Timothy calls them “your son.” Uhm-hm. Happy thought.
Ok, now I will return to the previous thought.
When I gathered enough of curious bravery to step out the garage and see what was going on now, I saw my dear husband’s six foot four inch body clamoring after OUR little three-year old’s naked frame as he led his daddy on a chicken-yard scramble around our front lawn, and the neighbor’s next door as well.
My ears caught the frantic strain of my husband’s “Andy’s peeing in the grass…” and the glistening laughter of a delighted three-year old as he zoomed past his father butt-naked yet again.
As I write the last sentence, I am concerned with using the term “butt-naked.” It does not add the correct ambiance that I would like to add to this piece and I feel it isn’t so appropriate a term. (“Butt” was always a naughty word in my home growing up.) So, on this note, I would like to pause and do some splanin’.
Bill Cosby, excellent man, brilliant mind, and great comic, coined the term “Wally-wally” rather than using the other term for male genitalia. That’s the term used on our household as well, because the correct term is a little embarrassing to use by some sectors of our household. “Wally-wally” however, is not.
While Dr. Cosby used the term as a noun, and in some cases a proper noun, I have adapted it into other parts of speech to describe my son’s recent butt-naked trend, reflecting the joy, freedom, pride, and comfort that he exhibits while in this state. I feel that using the term “butt-naked” is a little crass and a bit undignified at best. So I heartily thank Dr. Cosby for the inspiration.
Wally-wallyfied: being clad in a t-shirt and wally-wallies.
Wally-wallyness: the emotional state of being that a three-year feels when he is wally-wallyfied- joy, freedom, pride, comfort, giggly, you-can’t-catch-me, whee.
Wally-wallyly: the adverb describing how a three-year-old does something when wally-wallyfied, in a state of wally-wallyness.
Wally-wallying: the process of becoming wally-wallyfied. Usually lasting only a split second as the articles hindering three-year-old from his wally-wallyness are thrown down approximately 6.2578 feet from his body in a determined, lightening fast, gleeful manner. Such an action happens to the most attentive, ready-for-action, alert parent before the movement of son wally-wallying registers in their minds, without any warning what-so-ever, even twenty minutes after male offspring has eliminated in the toilet (or bushes in front of their church) and received t-t candy for his accomplishment.
I was cooking the other afternoon and Andy rounded the corner of the kitchen, clearly
wally-wallyfied.
“Mommy!” he exclaimed, “I t-t!! I t-t!!”
That wonderful sentence, now, had once been a harbinger of doom for my couch and/or carpet.
With excitement, I heartily praised the young man on his ability to put t-t in a potty.
With that, Andy with delight and pride said “Close your eyes. I surprise for you. Come on!!” and with great
wall-wallyness led me to the restroom, eyes shut.
“Open your eyes!”
“See, Mommy! I t-t in potty!”
Yea! He had
wally-wallyly led me to see his grand feat in the toilet. We hugged and waved bye-bye to the t-t as we flushed it to its new home in the septic tank in our back yard. He had earned his t-t candy. We washed his hands and
de-wally-wallyfied and went to the pantry to get his prize.
As of yet, there has been no real state of
wally-wallyness in our house, and certainly no public displays of our son
wally-wallying in public.
It’s raining.
