Emma-isms

Hey. This is Ryan.

Our second-oldest child, Emma (she's six), has inherited my tact. And by inherited I mean she has none just like her Old Man.

In the United States, we've distorted a saying from Psalms that starts with, "Out of the mouth of babes ..." and finished it with "comes the darndest things." If Bill Cosby still ran that show, my daughter would make a killing.

Here's some samples just from today:

As I was changing Clark's poopy diaper, Emma plopped down next to me and started staring. First she'd look at the baby's bare behind and then look at me. This went on for about a minute. "May I help you, kid?" I asked her. "Um, Daddy?" she started. Whenever she's about to inadvertantly insult me, she starts it with, "Um, Daddy?".

"Um, Daddy?" she said.

"Yes, Emma?" I answered, bracing for what was about to come next.

"Is that you that smells like farts or is it Clark?"

I looked away so as not to laugh in her face. Apparently there isn't much of a difference between what Clark's poop smells like and what I smell like on a regular basis.

Then, as we made our way through downtown traffic after a hellacious trip to Walmart, I got stopped at a red light. From the back of the van, Emma made an observation. "Um, Daddy? If you smell Mexican, well, it's right over there."

I turned to the direction she was pointing, a little apprehensive I would see a car filled with Hispanic people. Instead, it was a taco truck idling next to us, waiting for the light to turn green.

She must have been in a mood today, because the Emma-isms kept coming. Her two friends that live on our street are a little on the portly side. As she walked out the door to ride bikes with these friends, she called out nonchalantly, "Um, Daddy? I'm off to play with my chubby friends." I know they were standing outside the front door, waiting for her.

And finally as we were brushing our teeth next to each other before bed, Emma turns to me and said, "Um, Daddy?"

Once again I geared up for the inevitable innocent insult. "Yeeeesss, dear?"

"Um, Daddy?" she said again, but this time holding her nose. "It's a good thing you're brushing your teeth because your breath is stiiii-nnnky!"

I think I'll rent her out to the police department to replace their bloodhounds. I just hope the men and women in blue have thick skins because Emma's tact - or lack thereof - could bring the entire precinct to tears.