Not too long ago, Julian and I were talking and he asked me if he would have any siblings. I started explaining how I had decided that was it, one is more than enough, he has a cousin who is his brother (adoptive, of course), etc, etc, etc. But he somehow drove the conversation into how I had said that I wanted a girl and what would I have to do to get one. The first question was: how do we reproduce? To which, not knowing exactly what to say, I responded: "You've seen the shows about how animals mate, well, it's the same for humans." This was satisfying enough for him, but then he threw this one my way: "Mami, but if you were to have a girl, you'd have to find a new daddy." My next foolish answer was "Not really, we can still use the one we have..."
Another part of the conversation was this: "Mami, did I ever bite you?" He's fascinated about hearing stories of his infancy... I said yes and he asked "Where?" I indicacted my breast, as I knew somehow we were talking about breastfeeding. And he said "I would bite you again." To my immediate outraged (but contained) reaction, he added "but I won't, I know, I know..." which is his favorite phrase when he KNOWS he has said something that he cannot do but still expresses his wishes aloud. Is this Edipus Complex at its Freudian best, or what?
1 comment:
No pude contener la carcajada que retumbó por el pasillo de Hunter Colleghe cuando leí: "'Mami, but if you were to have a girl, you'd have to find a new daddy.' My next foolish answer was 'Not really, we can still use the one we have...'"
Aparte de que es pura poesía el intercambio, me intriga porqué piensa él que hace falta un papá distinto. Any clues?
Sigue disfrutando de tu Mini-Científico Residente!
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