Gone are the days of baby gurgles and coos.
Fewer and fewer mispronounciations of everyday words.
I am still in denial and will forever say “nerdles” instead of noodles.
Even when Superman is in his forties. It’s creepy, I know, but I’m fairly certain it’s all I’ll have.
Gone are the days of spelling bad words to the husband when something heinous, like the dishwasher breaking, happens. Don’t act superior. If you have kids, you know you’ve done it. “Oh S—–H——I—–T.
I got so good at it I could spell it faster than you could yell it. In two languages.
Gone are the days of leaving magazines laying around for fear that headlines will be read outloud and naturally questioned:
“How To Satisfy Your Man.”
“What He Really Thinks of You in Bed.”
“Romance and Sex. He Thinks They’re Synonymous”
I am assuming that my Superman could read the word Synonymous.
it just occurred to me that I have crappy taste in reading materials.
So now I have this first grader that can read just about anything, and instead of rejoicing in his passion for the written word, I have to go around the freakin house and make sure there are no traces of my
high school-era notes lying around because God forbid if he got a hold of one of those we’d have to sell our organs ( livers at a heavily discounted price) just to pay for the therapy bills.
My point is that illiteracy really doesn’t get fair and equal representation in our society and it comes at a high price.
Specifically a whole new kind of “baby-proofing,” if you know what I mean.