The kids and I had a recent opportunity to talk about smoking. Mackenzie had some funny thoughts.
“Mom, I think that as long as I am afraid of fire right by my face, I will never smoke. But if I am ever not afraid of fire right by my face, I might have to start smoking.”
“Well, Mackenzie,” I respond, “You should know that the smoke you inhale is very hot, just like fire. It burns your tongue, your throat, and your lungs. Overtime, this can make you very sick.”
“Oh. I see. I certainly don’t like getting burned. I’ll never smoke.”
One down. One to go.
I continued to tell them that if you smoke one cigarette, it is very hard to stop. Ian was listening with wide eyes. He was suffering from a yucky cold and was putting things together in his head as well as a five year old can. His voice sounded shaky and scared when he started to talk.
“But Mom, I can’t stop smoking. I’m smoking right now!”
Boy, he picked up the habit awfully early. You have to keep a better eye on that one!
Hold on, let turn Maury down and wipe this orange Cheeto dust off my fingers and on to my white t-shirt.
There. All better.
Now, what did you say about my boy?
That is halarious. My nephew calls it “cigarettin’”
I have never heard that before. “Cigarettin”
I love it when kids make up verbs.