Peanut, your favorite central character from this blog since 2008, is growing into quite the middle-aged man.
He’s almost six, and everything exasperates him.
Not really, you say. Surely climbing trees and drawing and controlling a surprising amount of his time is fun for him, no?
Um, maybe. I guess. Sure. But when he’s with me, he’s exasperated.
Yesterday, he was playing with his food, and I gave him the unreasonably calm lecture I’ve been giving for four years:
Me: Honey, food is for eating. Please don’t play with your food. Eat your food. Play with toys. No toys at the table, so no playing at the table. Just eat.
[blink, blink, blink]
M: Did you just ‘oy’ me?
[blink. blink. blink.]
The next day, he was reading on the couch and Butter climbed up with him, handing his older brother a book to read. Peanut looked at the cover, looked at me, rolled his eyes, and said, “Oy, Butter.”
I asked if his displeasure was based in the book selection, the interruption, or something else.
“Just oy,” he answered, and opened the book.
When the toddler throws a fit, Peanut “Oy”s. When I ask him to help clean up, Peanut “Oy”s. And yesterday, when told this weekend was busy with birthday parties and activities, he heaved a sigh and gave me his best “Oy.”
I don’t stop him, and I don’t indulge the laugh that bubbles up every time he says it. I just can’t imagine where he gets this.
Clearly, he is a very old and wise soul. And I wouldn’t be able to repress the laughter. Nope, not at all.
ps: I moved to WP so am now in your neighborhood.
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Oh, I laughed all right. But he just sighed. He comes from a long line of curmudgeons.
Oh boy. I would be biting my lip.
You know, I’m doing my best to weed out the curmudgeonous out of my family. The FIL is proud to be a curmudgeon and I can see some of that in my daughter. She’s a sigher. At THREE!
@Mad Woman the early eye rolling is at once horrible and adorable. My son’s a sigher, too. Like his early “damnit”s, his early sighs and eye rolls are awesome, well placed, and cringe worthy. Good luck with your curmudgeonly 3yo. If you can’t temper it, send her over here. She’ll be in good company.
Did he secretly read our blogs?!
I love saying OY because I love the sound of it. I sometimes whisper “puddle” under my breath just because I want to hear it.
Absence, I whisper “ping pong” for the same reason.
Lately he’s been saying, “Oy, baby” no matter what the toddler does.
Where did he get that?
Nevermind. I don’t know where my kids get anything any more. Though school does seem to be a place to pick up horrible mannerisms.
Do you “oy” back?
I think you need to bring Cowabunga Dude out as a reply. or Rad. or Groovy baby. He needs to broaden his repertoire of retorts. For your amusement, of course is a horse of course. Eyerolling, sighing, and Oy is sooo four seconds ago.
I’ll take Peanut’s “Oy” and raise it ONE’s “Ugh!”
(I love him, btw.)
The title of your post sent me to giggles. And then to find out the origin? So funny! Oy!
Fae, I once said, “Did you just oy me?” Peanut said yes and they *both* laughed. Then the little one started shrieking “Oh!” thinking he was oy-ing me, too.
unicorn, when he starts sentences with “Mom can I have…”, may I finish with “Gag me with a spoon!”
ck They’re pretty cute, our eldest children. And they both need to be smacked back into the decades when people smacked kids. That’d fix ’em.
Jane I’m happy to drop the vey for you to oy in giggles.
Snorting in recognition at your unreasonably calm dinner speech. I sometimes lose count of the number of times I say, “Just EAT” during a meal.
Seriously. I think that’s the original “oy vey.”
Please sit down. Please eat. Please sit still. Please eat. Please eat. Please stop playing. Please stop playing. The table is not a toy. The fork is not a toy. The food is not a toy. Please eat. Toys do not belong at the table. We’re not playing; we’re eating. We’re not coloring; we’re eating. Not at the table. Please eat. That is not eating. Please sit down. Please eat. Please sit still. Please eat.
Please tell me why I even feed you.