On the way home from the grocery store today, my four-year-old piped up with a question from the backseat.
"Hey, Mama, have you ever played spin the bottle?"
Then what happened was: my eyes popped out of their sockets and an old-fashioned Ahooga horn materialized above my head and, well...ahooga-ed.
I mean, COME ON! I knew I shouldn't have canceled our subscription to Noggin. And for the record, The Disney Channel is NOT child-friendly after a certain hour, because even though I'm pretty sure that little tart Selena Gomez is G-rated, there's clearly more to Wizards of Waverly Place than just run-of-the-mill spell-casting (honey, begin tearing hair out now). We've been allowing big brother to watch the show occasionally, after Winnie's bedtime--but I guess we haven't been careful enough.
And come to think of it, even he's been referring to some adolescent rites of passage that I'd have guessed were still be over-his-head. Swirlies, atomic wedgies, etc. Basically harmless, but are we really there, so soon?
I paused for a second, and then answered. "No." Which is true.
She went on. "Well, do you know how to play?"
And again, I said no, a lie that seemed justified.
Then I asked HER: "Do you know how to play?"
She told me yes. "You take a bottle. A wine bottle, and you make sure it has nuffing in it. Then you put it on the ground and spin it. And that's how you play."
"What do you do when the bottle stops spinning?" I asked.
"You pick it up, put it in the cupboard, and go play somefing else."
"Good girl." I said. "Here, have another Tootsie Pop."
Then we went home and read a board book about Jesus.