Prick

Every so often when we get together with friends, our kids put together an art gallery. All of them contribute original works of art and they are put on tasteful display throughout the house. This is not for the contemplation of beauty in all its various forms. This is purely a money-making venture. Every piece has a price tag prominently displayed, and customers are expected to purchase at least one item before leaving the gallery.

To prevent us from missing anything, we are given guided tours. And there is so much artwork, that pieces are grouped by category. The categories differ every time the gallery is set up. A business has to keep things fresh, you know. Last Sunday, as we were taking the tour, we noticed a new category -- Comics. One in particular caught our eye.



The tour pretty much stopped there, with all the grownups congregating around this one piece. Rose was pleased, although somewhat puzzled, that her artwork was generating such intense interest. She and Calvin looked at each other and shrugged. They knew it was cute, but weren't quite sure why the grownups were laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes.

There was a bidding war, but I'm pleased to say that David won. We're adding it to the portfolio of the kids' artwork that we call the "Unintentionally Obscene" portfolio. If you ask very nicely, someday I may show you the "Don't Touch the Pumpkin," piece. But I warn you, it's not for the faint of heart.

David and I talked later that night, debating whether this was a "teachable moment" or whether we should let it go. I wasn't particularly keen on educating our kids on not-so-nice slang words. On the other hand, I would hate for them to get in trouble for using a bad word, albeit unintentionally. We thought maybe we'd leave it alone for now. It probably made far more of an impact on us than them. Why make them grow up faster than they needed to?

However, the next morning I awoke to Calvin running around the house yelling, "Prick, prick, prick!!" in a very cheerful and enthusiastic way. I had visions of the day ending in the principal's office with a conference about my son's potty mouth. That tipped the scales in favor of education, and I pulled Calvin aside.

"Um, Calvin? You really shouldn't be running around the house yelling that word."

"Why?"

"Well, it has more than one meaning. One of them is not so nice."

"What does it mean?"

I told him. He stared at me a while, turned to look at the counter (where the comic was), and then turned back to me, grinning.

I then thought, "In for a penny, in for a pound," and went up to talk with the girls. Rose just looked at me in a resigned way and heaved a sigh. "I knew I should have named him Prickle. But the L-E just wouldn't fit in the word bubble."