Monster Truck(2) has, for the longest time, not been able to pronounce the beginning of any word. Even if he can say both parts of a word separately he will not put them together. (e.g.- "tay" and "bull" but not "table", just "ble".) So today, when I told him to go find his shoes and he happened to notice a shoebox from Bubba's(6) soccer cleats sitting on the floor, I was delighted when he declared (in what for him was almost perfect clarity), "No. Hocker ooze." Now, those of you readers with no children are doubtless sitting there shaking your heads at what you perceive to be an unduly-proud-and-ridiculously-overreactionary-parent-moment that I'm having here. No, you don't get it. He said "Hocker". Isn't that amazing? The fact that I can see your tortured face at this very moment, even across cyberspace, is compensation enough. Yes. Parents of young children are ridiculous. I'm going to embrace it. So my GENIUS toddler, Monster Truck(2)- (doesn't the very name ring Ivy League in your ears?) had the mental faculty to inform me very matter-of-factly that today he would be wearing soccer shoes (that are twice the length of his feet). When I suggested his own shoes, he just looked at me like I must be some kind of a simpleton not to understand the phrase "hocker ooze", and proceeded with an air of grandeur, to put the cleats on. With a satisfied expression he faced me with a look that said, "There, mother. Now do you see? These hocker ooze are exactly what I am going to wear today and you can't stop me. Now, let's be off. Oh wait, what happened to the ooze? CRAP! I hope mom didn't notice these things keep falling off when I try to walk. Quick, Brother! Distract her! I've got to get rid of these things and run barefoot to the car before she has a chance to think...." Brilliant, I tell you.
So the reason I was distracted enough for him to ditch the cleats without my taking full mental note of it, was because I was busy. Now I wish I could say that I was busy doing very efficient mom-like things such as juggling my phone, the baby carseat, the keys, a water bottle, my wallet, the diaper bag, and kicking one child gently in the direction of the car while multi-tasking by making a grocery list in my head. But alas, I was actually busy because I was comtemplating Hocker Ooze, the comic book supervillain. He would of course, wear a light green spandex suit with maybe a yellowish color panel down the sides. I couldn't decide about headgear or not. His power obviously has something to do with hocking huge super-loogies at his victims. I was trying to decide exactly what this would do. Is is really sticky mucus that holds them? Does it grow after he spits it? Or is it more like acid loogies that can burn through concrete so he is able to rob banks and stuff? I am such a nerd. Clearly, I have seen one too many super-hero movies lately. I like them. But this has got to stop.