Open mouth, insert sock

I have become increasingly nervous about taking my children out, as I never, never know what they're going to say.  I talked about Judah's chattiness recently, but sometimes their unintentional mistakes with the fine English language make me cringe. Judah is going through the phase of announcing with gusto any objects we pass while we're driving along: " A WATER TOWER! MOMMYMOMMYMOMMY! A WATER TOWER! LOOK!"  "CAR CARRIER! A CAR CARRIER CARRYING NEW CARS! LOOK MOMMY! A CAR CARRIER!" "AHHH! A TOWER CRANE AND BASTRUCTION BEHICLES! BASTRUCTION BEHICLES! LOOKLOOKLOOK!"  (Combine this 300 decibel narration with Zion's shrieking, and Mercy's incessant commentary: Iwonderwhat'sinthatfreighttruck,mom.Mommommommy!What's inthatfreighttruck?Mommyanswerme.What'sinthatfreighttruck?" and you won't wonder why my hearing isn't what it used to be, and why a padded room looks attractive more often than I care to admit. Silence, where art thou?)

This fall, Judah, who is interested in all things about farming, found the freshly cut corn stalks and straw bales in the fields fascinating. Whenever we would pass a field with the large round bales dotting the scenery, he would shout "HELLBELLS! HELLBELLS MOMMY! HELLBELLS! LOOK!" Benj and I had to hide our snickering and firmly correct him: "Judah, it's HAY bales. Say HAY BALES."  Judah: "Yes. Hellbells."

We were recently riding along and we were listening to one of the Manheim Steamroller Christmas discs. When a new song came on, Judah shouted "FLUTE!" I said, "No, Buddy, I think that's actually a tin or penny whistle. It's kind of like a flute, but it's higher and more tinny." To which Mercy replied confidently, "It's a titty whistle." Ooohhh-kay. Tin OR penny whistle, not both.

I was fortunate that both of these conversations happened in the car, but I can imagine some of these words emanating from my innocent, sweet-looking children's mouths in the store, or in church. It will happen. I'm bracing myself.