CONFESSIONS OF A FACEBOOK FAILURE: Year 2

Day 20: “Honkies and Quackers…

…that’s right.  I love you. Night-Night!”

And this is how I ended my little angel’s evening: vintage slurs, sealed with a kiss.

Why the racist nightcap, you ask?

Our nights are always closed with a story. Not a book. A story. A “whatever meanders into my entirely exhausted mind/make up the magical mess on the spot” story.  Sometimes these imaginative adventures are publishably perfect. More often…well…

Tonight’s strange story involved a honking duck and a quacking goose, and a forbidden inter-species love affair that ended with offspring. I was fine leaving it there. Awkward duck meets vagabond goose. Love ensues in the outskirts of the pond. Bam! Babies.

Done. Goodnight.

Monsters: “But they need names.”

Me: “Danny? Danny Duck? How about Danny Duck?”

Monsters: “NO!”

Me: “Gracie? Gracie Goose? Gracie it is. Goodnight.”

Monsters: “BORING!”

Me: “How about Tired? Or Mr. Mamas-Losing-It? Or Mrs. Wants-to-go-to- Bed? I don’t know. You think of it.  I’m going to sleep.”

Monsters: “How about Honky and Quacker?”

Seriously? A story about stereotypes and social struggles starring Honky and Quacker?

Me: “Perfect. “

And that was how our night ended with the sweetest of racist slurs.

*Please note that my children were fully unaware of their derogatory dialect. At least I don’t think they were aware. Unless fowl foul were the featured animal on Octonauts this week.*