I love children with vocabularies bigger than they are. Especially when they use words in the wrong context. But I do not love when the child speaking so big is my own, and his words are less than socially appropriate.
On a lunch date today, Tucker said to my friend, "Jen, you embarrassing."
Jen shifted her eyes to me, taken slightly aback. "Did your son just say I'm embarrassing? Does he know that word??"
"Um, yes. He does. It's in a book we read."
And it is. We read (often) the book, There is a Monster at the End of This Book, starring cute, loveable Grover. Grover is terrified to turn the pages that will take him to the end of the book, because of the waiting monster. He delays in every way, and we finally get to the end, only to learn the that monster is, in fact, Grover himself.
And then he holds his head in his hands, and he says, "Oh, I am so embarrassed."
And from that, Tucker has learned the word embarrassing.
Thankfully, Jen is first of all a mom of two boys, and she knows as well as I do that we cannot be defined or entirely responsible for the behaviors of our children. But she is also entirely witty, so she went to town with that comment of his.
"I'm pretty sure that's what he said. He said I'm embarrassing... and you're not even disagreeing with him. You obviously think so too."
Okay, I don't, but I did think it was really funny. And I didn't correct him because I was too busy laughing. And it's not wise to correct a three-year-old when you cannot keep a straight face.
So, I confess: I really do love when it's my child who uses his big words in the wrong ways. Turns out, I really do.
(As long as the audience can handle it.)