Oh, hi there, nude.

Long ago, I wrote a post about the difference between being naked and being nude.

(Don't worry, I don't expect you to remember the difference. I don't remember what I had for breakfast. So we'll just hold hands through this, ok?)

Naked is when you're not wearing any clothes with the intent to be frisky or troublesome (or both). Nude is when you're not wearing any clothes but with the intent to do something dignified or solitary, like showering or getting a pelvic exam.

(Note: neither of these is to be confused with being nekked, which is when you're not wearing any clothes and running like hell across an open space, possibly wearing a Batman mask. Or so I've been told.)


When my husband and I first started living together, we got into the habit that, if ever one of us saw the other person in any state of undress, we would say, "Oh, hey there, nude."

Flash forward eight years and now we have a toddler. A naked toddler. (See previous definitions for reference).

Every night after dinner, I will ask her, "Hey babe? Do you want to go upstairs for bath?" No sooner is that word out of my mouth, but she is climbing up the stairs as fast as those stubby little toddler legs will carry her. By the time I get to her room, she is laying on the floor, clumsily trying to take off her pants.

I don't know if she likes the bath as much as the nudity, to be perfectly honest, because she seems to have way more fun running around the upstairs, nekked and shrieking, while her bath fills, than she ever does in the tub.

And since she's a naked person in our house, husband and I will always say, "Oh, hi there, nude!" Then we laugh and laugh.

This morning, we had a scheduled visit at her new preschool. (Preschool for two-year olds isn't really school at all as much as it is an enclosed space without any sharp objects where they basically teach feral animals how to be around other feral animals without injuring them or stealing their crackers.)

I woke her, dressed her, and brought her down for breakfast. While I unloaded the dishwasher, I made small talk (or as much small talk as one can with a not-quite-two-year-old).

"Are you excited to see your new school?"

"Yah!"

"Are you excited to play with some kids?"

"Yah, mama!"

"Do you see something outside the window?

She looked up from her pancake and, clear as day, said, "Oh, hi, nude!"

I know. I know.

But, as I always used to say on this blog before, it could be worse. It could be meth.

She didn't say it during the preschool visit, which felt a lot like winning the lottery, because I had visions of her walking up to the teacher and, in her adorably squeaky voice, cheerfully greeting this complete and total stranger as a nude.

Other things I'm terrified of her saying include but are certainly not limited to:
  • "You're not my supervisor, Dada!"
  • "Where the fuck did I put my keys?"
  • and "Lola, how did you get another hot spot in your neck vagina?" (Another post for another day, friends.) 
So, yea. I guess you could say I'm crushing this whole motherhood thing.

Comments

  1. hahaha.... it's just beginning - all those little nuggets will start rolling off her tongue. her timing will rival an olympic diver. her delivery will be clear and deadpan. and never forget, she knows everything about your life and can't wait to share! my advice - have another baby - there is more confusion in a crowd. xxx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sage advice, as always. And you're right - she knows EVERYTHING.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular Posts