Sesame Street -- BAD!

When I was young there was one word that terrorized me: "tornado." It took little more than mentioning the fact a Tornado Watch had been issued for Tarrant County to transform me into a blubbering wad of fear. To complicate matters, a Civil Defense horn was less than 200 yards from our house. So in the event a Tornado Warning was in effect, our family was fully aware...and I instantly flew into panic mode -- running around the house grabbing every blanket and pillow I could hold and diving into the bathtub...for I was sure that, of the 393,476 residents in Fort Worth, TX, that tornado would seek me out.

Fortunately for me (and my family), I emerged from that phase.

Today, however, there are two words that have taken the place of "tornado"; words that cause me to shudder and shake with unfathomable terror; words that cause me to take the same evasive action I would take when I knew a tornado was near. Those words: "Daddy watch!"

This past Sunday I experienced another "Daddy, watch" moment. We were eating at a BBQ joint called Betty Rose's after church on Sunday. Betty Rose's is very popular with the over-55 crowd on Sunday, and the place was packed with 'em. Both Elijah and Noah LOVE a good turkey sandwich, so Betty Rose's works great for our family.

Noah was sitting across from me enjoying his turkey sandwich when he says, "Daddy watch." A feeling of dread comes over me when he says something to the effect of, "Mon-to goo-kee." Before I can reach for my two-year old translator, Noah takes a piece of turkey from his sandwich, grips it with both hands, and shoves it in his mouth making a sound that, phonetically, would be spelled: "OM-YOM-YOM-YOM-YOM-YOM!" This is not a whisper; this is a two-year old making a joyful noise unto the Lord...and unto every person sitting in Betty Rose's.

I begin to assess what is happeneing. "Mon-to goo-kee"...sounds like....Monster Cookie....which could mean.....Cookie Monster. Is he imitating Cookie Monster? But...he's on Sesame Street. And they teach values, manners, integrity...good things. I grew up with Sesame Street. They're not supposed to be teaching my child to act like a monster. Sweet Mother of Pearl, WHAT ARE THEY TEACHING MY SON!!!

But before I can fully process what is going on around me Noah takes a second piece of turkey and violently begins the same process. His mother finds this hilarious, and is impressed with the accuracy of his depiction. His four-year old brother is equally impressed, and responds with cries of "Do it again, Noah, do it again!"

I now know how an Olympic diver or an Olympic gymnast feels. For years they practice and practice, honing their skills for the day that they will perform in front of judges in hopes of getting a perfect score...only to have their hopes dashed by a poor performance in front of a band of critics. While imploring my child to stop I feel the eyes of every parent boring a hole right through me, their disapproving stares focused on my possessed son; their hands reaching for their cell phones in an effort to immediately contact Child Protective Services, Dr Phil, or Supernanny.

I jumped from my seat, grabbed "Legion" and took him to the bathroom to begin the discipline process. As we're walking to the chamber where beatings occur, he looks at me with his pretty blue eyes and says, "Daddy, Mon-to Goo-kee funny. You do it."

So Daddy chilled...and accomodated his son's request...but I waited 'til we got home.