Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Booboo and the Beast

The other day in my history class, we were discussing the bubonic plague. Apparently, the bruises that were evidence of the plague were called "bubus." Thus we get the word used when speaking motherese to a child: booboo. When I learned the history of this term, I was shocked. It's like "Ring Around the Rosy," which also comes from the plague era. If you didn't know, the original ending was "we all fall dead," later changed to "we all fall down." I don't want my future children to remind me of the Black Plague every time they get a tiny scrape or play a childhood spinning game. I determined, therefore, that I will teach my children to say "wound" instead of "booboo." Interactions with my children will go something like this:

"Mommy, I have a wound on my finger," Junior says.

"Where, my sweet?" the beautiful mother implores.

"Right here," Junior responds.

"Oh, what happened?"

"It got caught."

"In what?"

"In Friedrich's teeth."

For anyone who recognizes that last line, you will appreciate how my life will be so much like The Sound of Music. The similarities between me and Maria are magnificent to behold. When I was an infant, my mom used to sing to me, "How do you solve a problem like--Toni?" Those closest to me can also vouch for how much I resemble Julie Andrews, especially my British accent and phenomenal singing voice. What was it I was singing the other day? Oh yes. "Part of Your World." At the top of my lungs. According to my mother, that was one of the first songs I ever learned. Ariel was my idol. . . until Beauty and the Beast came out in 1991. Then, I wanted nothing more than to grow up to be like Cogsworth. How great would it be to have a clock installed in your face?! You would never be late to anything. And the way Cogsworth sticks to the master's rules--I only wish that I could be so strict.

Fear not, faithful readers. Someday, I will achieve my dream. May all your dreams come true. And may all your booboos remind you of the bubonic plague. . . until they get kissed better.

Over and out.

1 comment:

Theresa said...

yeah, but now I'll never be able to kiss my children's booboos better because I'll be afraid of catching the plague.