Okay, well, not exactly. Actually, the knowledge that he has been passing on is more along the lines of “pull my finger.” I really don’t know who decided this sort of thing should be funny. I’d be willing to bet that it wasn’t a woman.
My son now knows that farts are funny, that it is cool to play with the food on one’s plate, and that underwear makes a great hat. He is proficient at sniffing another person’s feet and then fake-gagging until he falls over, clutching at his throat in pretend revulsion. Feigning an episode of vomit that produces unlikely effects, such as toy cars and bath duckies, generates much hysterical laughter.
I am afraid that all of this education has harmed the boy’s brain a smidge. The other day he came out of the bathroom with the soft potty seat on his head. He then proceeded to pull it down around his neck where it became very, very stuck and I was fearful that either the thing would need to be cut off or his ears surgically removed in order to get it off again.
Daddy did try to teach him some useful skills as well. Like spitting out toothpaste while brushing one’s teeth. This backfired unfortunately, and I am getting pretty tired of reprimanding the child for spitting at the grocery store, in the bathtub, wherever. Daddy taught his small protégé how to leap and tried to start training the boy to swim.
I do have to give my husbands props, however, for helping our two-and-a-half year old memorize 1 Corinthians 13:4-7. The boy knows how to spell his first and last name, and he can also inform people that he is “two” while showing them his rabbit-ear index and middle fingers. Daddy has also taught the young man how to count to ten in Latin. I didn’t even know how to do that. I just wish he wouldn’t pick his nose while working his way from one to ten.