battle of the butt

21 Dec

“What do you want Santa to bring you for Christmas?” I asked the kids as we crept along in rush hour traffic.

“I want a remote controlled car,” said Gabriel.

“A remote controlled car? That sounds cool. How about you Sof-”

“And I want it to have jets on it with rocket boosters!” Gabriel continued excitedly.

“Oh. Okay,” I said, not sure if a car like that exists in the $10 range that Santa gave me.

“And wings! So it can fly!” He exclaimed. Oh geez.

“Um, so you want a remote controlled car with jets and rocket boosters and wings so it can fly?” I asked scratching my head.

“Yep.” He said confidently.

Well…shit. Santa’s going to have to get creative this year. “Okay,” I said hesitantly. Slightly afraid to continue the conversation, I turned my attention to my daughter and asked “Sofia, what do you want for Christmas?”

“I want a big booty,” Sofia said proudly.

I slammed on the brakes.

“Haha, oops, sorry…bad traffic,” I said nervously to the kids, “um, Sofia, what did you say?”

“I want a big booty for Christmas,” Sofia clarified. Yep, I definitely heard her right the first time. Suddenly the remote controlled flying car with jets and rocket boosters for $10 didn’t look so bad. Let me stop here and clarify that Sofia has no clue what a “booty” is, and certainly no idea of the social implications of a big one. You see, she’s in a phase where she likes to make up words to make us laugh. It’s a silly game we play where she makes up a word and uses it in a sentence and we all laugh at how goofy she is. Recently she came up with the word “booty” and has been using it to be silly. We didn’t make anything of it because she meant no harm by it and didn’t know what she was saying. Not to mention that “booty” is not exactly the worst word out there. Except for when it comes out of your three year old daughters mouth and she’s asking for a big one for Christmas. I should have just laughed and left it at that but the feminist in me felt like I needed to cultivate and protect a positive body image in her.  I could have said a million things to her to get the desired effect, but instead I came up with this…

“Sofia, you do not want a big booty,” I said firmly. It was a rookie mistake. As a mom of toddlers, I should have known that the only sure fire way to get a toddler to want something is to tell them they don’t want it.

“I. want. a. BIG. BOOTY!!” She screamed, starting a battle of wills between mom and toddler. I tried to salvage the situation but the more I talked, the more I stuck my foot in my mouth and the harder she dug in her heels. By the time we got home she was throwing a tantrum equivalent to that of a Hollywood actress mad because her personal trainer can’t make her ass big like Beyonce’s. I knew I had to stop things before she dug her heels in any more, so I caved and told her that Santa would try and get her a big booty for Christmas.

Sorry, Santa. My bad. That ones on me.

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