Period

Tonight H3.2, Chicken and I had dinner at H3.2's parents' house. It was an important event to me, because Chicken had not met H3.2's mom, and had only briefly met his father when H3.2 moved in to my home. Now, Chicken has a rather creative mouth on him, to say the least. However, he has finely honed skills in the "appropriate company" department. He rarely says anything colorful in front of people that might not understand his unique sense of humor. Even though I was fairly sure that Chicken would be polite and not say anything out of line, I still gave him the "talk" on the way to Mr. and Mrs. F's home. It didn't go very well, because Chicken had spent most of the weekend being spoiled by one grandparent after another and was sleep deprived. Too much fun + not enough sleep + swimming at the pool + sweets + possibly caffeine = insane child. Here's how the conversation went:

Sam: Chicken, we are going to Mr. and Mrs. F's house. Please, please be on your best behavior and no talking about poop or penises at the dinner table.

Chicken: Va - gin -a! (long and drawn out in his new retard imitation)

Sam: Do not freak out H3.2's parents.

Chicken: Va - gin -a!

Sam: Please, please Chicken, do not talk about vaginas. Just be polite and call them Mr. and Mrs. F.

Chicken: Va - gin -a!

Oh my God. Chicken is going through this phase where he imitates a mentally handicapped child. With stunning accuracy, including body movements and weird facial expressions. I can't even begin to describe his voice. If you didn't know him, and caught him during one of these times you would swear that my child rides the short bus. By this time, I am praying that he just acts like a normal 8 year old and doesn't embarrass the shit out of me. Of course, you parents out there are saying "Duh, a normal 8 year old is programmed to embarrass the shit out of you".

We make it through dinner, H3.2 and Mr. F retire to the living room to watch television. Mrs. F, Chicken and I are talking and finishing our desserts. Chicken starts to tell me about his afternoon in the pool with the twins. Instantly I remember the twins dear mother, whom I believe I called Overprotective and Snotty Cunt Bitch or something in another post. This time, the father brought his daughters to swim, and Chicken liked him a lot.

Chicken: He's really nice and cool, like you would be if you were a man. Except without that whole period thing.

Mrs. F chuckles. I turn three shades of scarlet. Chicken realizes the blunder and has the good sense just to stop right there. I glance around wildly, wondering if there is any way I can find a large hole to hurl my body into right then and there. Kids. Gotta love 'em.