I debated writing about this because the google pervs might come calling. I’m going to trick them with some replacement typing. Okay, here goes.
Jack went to a birthday party this afternoon. The kids were splashing in the pool and running around with water guns and balloons. The moms were sitting in the shade talking about nothing specific because we all had one eye and ear tuned to the increasingly manic kids.
Without much discussion, the kids’ play became more organized. They divided themselves into two teams. The guns began squirting in a more specific way, and the balloons were aimed with intent. We mom’s sat back and began to talk amongst ourselves in earnest.
Then we heard it. A dirty word. Not a BAD word, but certainly not one you expect seven-year-olds to say. We asked each other, “Did you hear…?” and “Are they saying…?” The kids, it seems, were teams of cats, pu$$y cats (take that google perv$) to be exact. The moms smiled and shrugged and went on with the chatting.
The game, however, got louder. The kids were meowing and hissing and screaming things like, “I’m a bad pu$$y cat.” One of the more juvenile moms (Whoever could that have been?) giggled a bit. And as the game progressed, the word cat was dropped.
That’s right, folks, our kids were now screaming the word pu$$y at great volumes and with much fervor. I had to excuse myself to the restroom so I could laugh out loud. The other moms just didn’t seem as amused as I was.
Seriously? How can you hear your kid yell, “Don’t get me wet, I’m a good pu$$y”, and keep a straight face?
The breaking point for me was when one of the kids went vigilante. He grabbed the biggest water gun in the yard and indiscriminately began shooting everyone while hollering, “I’m the pu$$inator!”
All I could think was: Giant dildo with whiskers.