I was sitting on the couch, blissfully winding a beautiful new skein of rainbow sock yarn from Expression Fiber Arts into a ball. Winding by hand is an almost meditative exercise, and I was peacefully contemplating the kinds of stitch patterns I wanted to try with this yarn.
Suddenly I hear the tiny voice of the Helpful Toddler say, “Mooommy? Wanna p’ay bum-kit head?”
I was pulling myself out of my reverie with difficulty, trying to decipher the meaning of “bum-kit,” when suddenly the bridge of my nose lit up with pain and my vision whited out, appropriately soundtracked by a rousing chorus of giggles!
I felt the momentary panic a bunny in my back yard must feel upon realizing that the annoying yapping in the distance will soon have something to do with me.
So I sat hunkered and confused until my toddler-speak brain-filter finally spat out “bum-kit = bucket.”
This turn of events was actually related to comic books. Therefore, it was my husband’s fault. Apparently 3.5yo CE came in with said bucket on her head, so he, thinking of Ironman’s nickname, said, “Who are you? Are you ‘bucket head?'”
Well, she thought that was hilarious and that everyone should play. Since he was busy (cooking–wonderful wonderful man) and the baby was on his back (did I mention how wonderful?), and the poor dog was off-limits, she took one look around and saw the sitting duck blissfully absorbed in winding yarn into a ball.
I think she knew that, had she actually waited for the answer to the original question to me, the answer was likely to be no.
What fun would that be, bum-kit head?
PS. My nose still smarts. So does my pride. You know, just a little.