Maybe his parents didn’t think it was so cute, but my nephew spent a good part of Christmas dinner loudly shouting a very bad word.
Jett was two, and like many toddlers, he had trouble with his t’s and r’s. “Train” became “fain,” “trick” became “fick,” and “truck?” Yeah, you guessed it.
I had showed up for dinner with a Christmas present. He’d already opened his many other presents in the morning, so I figured mine would have more impact if he got it at night. Kid got a lot of presents.
Jett liked vehicles and heavy equipment, so I got him a dump truck. A very cool dump truck with sounds and flashing lights.
“Dumb-fuck! Cawen got me a dumb-fuck!”
“I wanna play with the dumb-fuck!” “It’s a weal big dumb-fuck!” “Everybody, wook at my dumb-fuck!”
Dumb-fuck, dumb-fuck, dumb-fuck. All night long.
Jett is the kid on the left, in a photo taken a few months before Christmas, judging from the plastic jack o lantern they’re posing with,