2007-08-14

Pit Pit Vagina

Two of my very favorite people in the world are Malcolm and Susan Travis. Malcolm, because he is quite possibly the greatest drummer ever. Susan, because she and I have shared a brain for the last 14 years. They in turn have produced yet two more of my favorite people -- Josh and Oscar.

Josh and Oscar are....there are really no words to adequately describe Josh and Oscar. Their wiseassery is really quite breathtaking sometimes. I kind of wish they were MY kids.

So yesterday Oscar asked Susan if he could stay home from day camp, presumably to plot his plans for world domination in the relative quiet of his bedroom. He was told that this would not be possible. Profoundly disappointed, he mumbled: "Pit. Pit. Vagina." And then went off somewhere to sulk.

That's right. "Pit. Pit. Vagina."

You know - what does that MEAN, exactly? Little kids are the conduits for all kinds of messages from elsewhere. Such strange angels. When they're real small, they lie on their backs and stare into the trees and speak what I'm pretty sure is Urdu. And then, once they deign to learn the language of the adult-types around them, they still don't make a lot of sense. Well, they DO - just not to us.

See, when I hear "Pit. Pit. Vagina." I immediately think back to the psychic blender of bourbon and heartbreak that was my most of my twenties. It's evocative of the hasty shower routine I would conduct when I was in somebody else's bathroom, if you catch my drift. Not quite a walk of shame, but probably not going out for breakfast, either.

(Man, the 90's were AWESOME.)

Of course, I conveyed this interpretation to Susan, who didn't seem especially comforted. Personally, I think it's great. If he came up with this on his own, it's brilliant. If he overheard it somewhere (and I SWEAR he didn't pick it up from ME) and just decided to appropriate it as his newfound exclamation of disappointment, it's brilliant. I love that kid.

lisamcc at 2:44 p.m.

previous | next