Tukk's True Love

It started when we were out at my parents' house for dinner one Sunday. We were making dessert when Tukk came up to me and said "Dammit!"

Surely my angelic two year old didn't just cuss at me, I thought to myself.

"What?" I asked him.

"Dammit!" he said again. Loudly. And with enthusiasm.

Damnit! Who taught him that word? I thought to myself.

"What do you need?" I asked, fingers crossed that I was just misunderstanding him.

"Dammit Momma DAMMIT!" he cursed, stomping his little orthotic-clad foot in a rage.

By now everyone in my family was laughing.

"Dammit Momma. I nee dammit! Teeeeee dammit!" And then the ephiphany came: "I need a donut! Pleeeeeeeese donut!"

We were making donuts for dessert, but he hadn't had one for months and months, so I didn't think he even knew what I was talking about when I mentioned donuts. I was wrong. The boy is, apparently, head over heels for the deep fried delights.

Sometimes the first thing he says when he wakes up is "I neeeeee dammit."

Every time we drive past Maverik he says, "Teeee [please], dammit" because Maverik carries Krispy Kremes. His cousins love to ask him what he wants to eat, because he always responds "dammit!" We can't help but love it, too. Makes us giggle every time. Well, almost every time. Last week we were at the Primary Children's outpatient clinic in Riverton, which has bubbles and toys and books and stickers and all sorts of fabulous things, so of course Tukk didn't want to leave. I told him we needed to leave so we could go get a donut to celebrate that his hip was still in the socket.

Tukk literally fistpumped in the air and shouted "Get dammit!" as loud as he could. (Say it fast to get the full effect.) Heads turned. Parents looked shocked. My face flushed red. Tukk shouted it again. I quickly ushered an exultant Tukker to the elevator. He shouted "Get dammit!" all the way to the car. Get dammit, it was a little embarrassing.