April 14, 2003

Master of His Domain

I punched the button on the answering machine, and my gosh, it was our old friend Patty. Why would she be calling after all these years?

No. The message played and as Patty talked the voice explained that it belonged to Patty's daughter, sounding so much like her mom that it spooked me a little. She was calling from Japan, looking for our son's phone number. The two of them have apparently kept in touch, across the years and from around the world, and that is a comfort to know, in a way. I've done such a poor job of holding on to friendships, apparently. At least Nate is forming more permanent bonds, and he will be glad of this when he is our age.

Patty had another child after we moved away. Like the daughter now in Japan, the little boy was pretty much given free reign in a remarkably free and permissive household where mom and dad didn't want to break their little spirits, so children were reared in a very loose and uncontrolling way, allowing the 'wisdom of the body' to govern bedtime, potty training, all sorts of things. Not that we were tyrannical parents, understand, but we did have some rules in our house. Our kids, I think, always envied these peers who lived their bliss, even while in diapers.

The son was named Aldon. Patty explained that this was because he would be the last child for them, and now they were 'all done'. Actually, I think it was a family name. Aldon is famous in our family for this true story:

It was time for bed. Patty reminded two-year-old Aldon to brush his teeth.

"I don't wanna bwush my teef" he proclaimed.

"Aldon, if you don't brush your teeth, they'll rot" Patty patiently explained, then having provided him with the necessary data to make his choice, said no more.

And Aldon replied "Wet dem wot". And he went to bed.

This terse phrase has been a family favorite over the years, and can be used to express all sorts of sentiments of permissive indulgence, juvenile anarchy and oblivion to consequences. You have my permission to use the phrase. But do brush your teeth. If you want to.

Posted by fred1st at April 14, 2003 04:36 AM | TrackBack

haha let the wot, reminiscent of Let Them Eat Cake. which of course makes sense because if you ate cake and didn't brush your teef, they'd wot. haha. a good laugh to start the day!

Posted by: bud at April 14, 2003 09:16 AM

I shall indeed on my next temper tantrum exclaim - "Wet dem wot." LOL!

Posted by: Alexandra at April 14, 2003 02:57 PM

Speaking of which... Julianna will be in Oregon in August, and Rusty's decided to move from Tenessee to Seattle. So, Rusty and I are throwing around the idea of renting a van (along with one other northwestwardbound friend), and making the trek cross-country. Might see the Grays at that, and can pass along a proverbial fruitcake to renew old bonds. Of course, one knows what fruitcake can do to the teeth...

Posted by: nate at April 20, 2003 10:12 AM

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