Today, Rapha & I visited a friend who lives on Pines Street.
In the transliteration of the word from Hebrew to English, it is spelled as above.
In Hebrew, however, it is pronounced "penis" as in the male organ.
To catch Raphael's reaction - after all, he is four and things like body parts and bodily functions amuse him to no end - I randomly stopped someone and asked: "Excuse me, can you tell me where Penis Street is?"
Rapha burst into laughter and doubled over. "Penis Street?!? Penis Street?!? Mom, did you just say PENIS STREET?!?"
More laughter as I nodded yes.
"Excuse me," he calls after the poor innocent Israeli scratching his head as he quickly scurries away. "Can you tell me where Poo Poo Street is? Hey Hey! Where is Butt Street?"
Sheesh. Four-year-olds. Can't take them into the public realm whatsoever.
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While our two year-old has yet to catch on to the humor of body parts, he has been known to innocently ask me in public, “Mommy, where’s your nipples?” Thank god he’s over that phase, though for now I’m wondering how we’ll ensure that he doesn’t say “oh, shit” in front of his grandparents when they arrive for a visit in just over a month.
Let's just talk about grandparents and the manner thing, shall we? My mother wouldn't take Rapha out without me for fear he'd give a shrug and take off in his own direction. My father swore not to babysit again after young Raph cussed at him one evening..I try to be a positive influence but...??
It's a given that ours will go in the opposite direction from where we are heading, usually pulling a sudden "spin-around-and-run" on us, inexplicably drawn towards the road as if there was a magnetic force in play.
While visiting the US, I left him alone with my parents so that I could shower. That was about it. And only my mother - Dad could never have managed on his own.
I can only imagine these two boys could do if we ever got them together...
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