Sebastien Wilcox

My boy is pretty gifted. He understands this crazy, fast-paced world we live in better than most adults. Twitter gets it right. You tweet what you have to say and you’re out. There’s something refreshing about getting to the point. Not rambling on. Not going off in a tangent about the difficulty of not being able to express oneself through a few choice words because you have a University degree and you’ve always wanted to use the word mellifluous in a sentence even if it has no relevance to your topic.

Like Twitter, my four year-old gets it.

Papa I have to go peeca he tells me. I said you’re mumbling son, what you said wasn’t mellifluous. He said daddy I really have to peeca. I said I’m not sure what you’re talking about Zachary? Zachary tells me again he has to go peeca, this time he jumps up and down holding his hands in front of his privates like a soccer player. Peeca, what is a peeca I say? It’s a peepee and a caca, a peeca dad. Oh I said. I don’t want to peeca in my pants papa. No that would be really messoss I say. Dad, what’s messoss? I tell him with a little swagger that messoss is both messy and gross all rolled into one time-saving word. He says dad? I say yes. He says I peecad in my underwear and it’s messoss.

The moral of this post? Wouldn’t a capee make more sense than a peeca? Just sayin’.