Wednesday, September 12, 2012

That's Spanish for Butt...Right Mom?




Bath time with the Midget is always an adventure.  It seems like the minute that kid takes his pants off he can’t keep his mouth shut.  And while my mind is racing with hilarious jokes about his father being the same, or how he needs to kick this habit before adulthood, I will refrain from all of those in the name of good taste.   Since our latest move, and the painfully long period before the Midget began school, we got to spend a lot of time together – no, seriously – way too much time.  How can I be certain of this?   Every night at bath time it rears its head and I now know exactly what I would sound like should I ever be reincarnated into the body of a 4 year old boy.

“Whoa Woman, watch the hands.  I cleaned my butt yesterday!”

“Now look what you’ve done.  You got soap in my eye.  Nice job gurrrrl.”

“Mom, why do I need to wash my hair if I didn’t roll around in the dirt today?  I mean, some days I do put my hair in the dirt, but I didn’t today.  Fo real.”


But last night I realized just how much time he’s spent with his mother when his feminine side reared its little head.  
“Mom, make sure you wash my bagima.  I think it’s dirty.”

Um what?   Bagima?  Wash your bagima? 

As I’m sudsing up the Midget, he revealed to me that not only does he have lady parts, but that his lady parts got dirty when he was outside playing because the seat of his truck was dirty.  In fact, he feared he’d gotten leaves and grass on his bagima.  I’m not sure where he got the word as I’m not mature enough to use the scientific terms for genitalia and God knows the Turk isn’t either.  We’ve called his little man parts ‘a walnut’ since birth and  have been widely known to use whistles and eyebrow raises in place of the real words.  I can assure you, he’s learned some good stuff in two different languages from his potty-mouth parents, but this one did not come from home.  I blame one of those little playground hussies at the preschool, but regardless, the word (or some bastardization of it) was now out there.

“Honey, I don’t think you have a bagima.”

                “What?  Are you crazy?  It’s right here.”  (grabbing his butt)

“Um, no.  Do you know what a bagima is?”

                “Well duh.  Of course I do.”  (again, grabbing his butt)

“Honey, only girls like Mommy have bagimas.”

                “No Mom.  Look.  I have one right here.” (this time shaking his butt)

“No, that’s not a bagima.  That’s your butt.”

                “Right.  Bagima is Spanish for butt.”

Oh right….how could I forget? Bagima is Spanish for butt.


Now any normal parents would correct their little one and give a scientific explanation maturely explaining the difference between the sexes and let it go at that.  Normal parents would laugh it off and let it rest.  But then again, we are not normal parents.  Moments after the Midget was toweled off and struggling to don his Iron Man undies and T-Rex jammies, I ran into the office to share the tale with the Turk.   As with all things Turk-related, it took a couple minutes of translation before he busted out laughing.

For some reason, we - and in we I mean since it’s better to take the Turk down with me - just cannot let it go.  

Here is an example of our last few days:
Watching National Geographic  shows – “Did you see the bagima on that elephant?”

Walking down the street -  “Whoa, that woman’s pants are so tight I can see her bagima!”

In traffic – “That car just but me off.  What a total bagima!”


The irony is that I hate the v word.  I would never dream of commenting on an elephants coochie using the v-word.  I’m no prude, I just hate that word.  I can’t stand to hear people say it let alone say it myself.   I was fortunate during my pregnancy that the entire thing happened in Turkish and I was never once forced to hear the v-word  even on a scientific front.  I realize that as an educated woman in her 40’s, I should not fear the word vagina but I do.  It makes me cringe.  Coochie, love muffin, naughty bits, vajiji and now, thanks to Honey Boo Boo on TLC, I can even accept the term Biscuit when discussing lady parts, anything but the v-word.  

So in all honesty, I think the Midget’s birth of the word BAGIMA was actually meant for me.  My son created a cute little word that was a step closer to the grown-up word I should begin to use.  Thanks to my son, I am one step closer to adulthood.  The true test of progress will be seen in a few months when it’s time for the bagima doctor.

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