Scandinavian Kiss

My son is 2.5 years old.  I kiss my son’s boo-boo’s.  Except we call them “ouchies”, because we nicknamed my tits (for reasons I cannot recall) “boo-boo’s” while I was breast-feeding him as a baby.  My husband made up a song that he would sing whenever Griffith was hungry and it was time for a feeding.  He sang, “Griffith Samuel Brown Needs his Boo Boo Juice, Mr. Samuel Brown needs his Boo-Boo Juice, Griffith Samuel Brown needs his Boo Boo Juice, Ahhhhh, Give Me. My. Boo. Boo. Juice!”  It is actually pretty catchy, I wish I could sing it for you.  I breast-fed him until he was 16 months old (creepy me), so he remembers that tits are called “boo-boo’s” in our family.  So it is pretty confusing for him to hear people refer to injuries as “boo-boo’s”, cuz ya know, he thinks that means that my tits are the same as painful abrasions you receive after doing something clumsy.  So anyways, when he gets an ouchie, he needs a kiss.  He is now entirely dependent on a kiss to heal the ouchie.  This is my fault, I kissed an ouchie once, and said “All better now!”, and now he thinks he cannot be all better unless an injury is kissed.  It is usually cute and enjoyable to kiss his ouchie, but he often stubs his toe in our house, and then points to his foot and says, “Kiss it, Mommy.  Make it all better.”  While he is pouting.  I cannot deny that little pout, so I bend over, pick up his dirty, clammy little toe, and kiss it, while I say, “ALL BETTER!”  This routine happens on average about 10 times a day.  The usual kisses are given on his foot, his elbow, and his head.

This morning, however, the ouchie was in a new place.  He bit his tongue.  And he must have bit it hard, because he was crying pretty bad.  While crying, with his tongue out, he desperately gasped “Kiss it Mommy!”  But it sounded more like “Tith thit Thommthy!”, since he had his tongue out and all.  So here I am, with a hysterical child, requiring a disgusting French, more like, German or Scandinavian kiss from his own Mother, because I accidentally trained him to need this.  So, with my Husband standing nearby, laughing, I winced and went ahead and kissed his tongue.  He immediately smiled through his tears and said, “Thanks, Mommy.  I’m all better.”  To be honest, seeing his relief was so satisfying, I would do it again.  Even if we were in public, I probably would do it again.  Which would probably be reasonably acceptable  here, and is most likely a common occurrence round these parts, since we live in Cowtown.  But I informed my son that I draw the line at butt holes and penises.  If he has a butt hole or penis injury, I am not doing it.  I would never.  He will just have to tough those ouchies out on his own.  But I can almost guarantee that he will injure his butthole or penis soon, and ask me to kiss it.  I will do a lot for the sake of Motherhood, but I draw the line at incestual activities.


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