Weird bathtub moment. It’s not sad. I dunno why I’ve had a series of serious posts lately, and I apologize from the bottom of my cold, dark heart for failing you.
Tonight, instead of the typical questions and chatter (or sad tales of eroding preschool friendships), I get this:
Momma, what’s Satan?
What. The. Fuck.
I stare at him, mouth agape, for no less than thirty seconds. He smiles back at me.
“What do you mean?” I ask. “Wait, what did you say?”
“What’s sadan?” He looks up.
I don’t want to repeat it, put words in his mouth. “Uhhh. What?”
The Kaiser splashes around.
“Dude. What did you say?” I demand. He ignores me, so I try again. “Are you saying, ‘Satan’ or ‘Sadan’?”
“It’s uh. It’s uhhh.. It’s when you push a stick outta the way. You, uh. Mommy. You push the stick.” He makes a shoving motion with both hands.
What. The. Fuck.
I’m horrified. But I’m also intrigued. I mean, really? “What’s pushing a stick? Who’s pushing the stick away?” I prod.
He grins. “Or, you can push a log. A log or a stick.”
“Dude,” I laugh, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sadan,” he grins at me.
“Who told you that word, Coley?” Who is talking to my kid about Satan? Sadan? This pre-school is bang out of order and batshit crazy. I swear to Buddha, if he says Satan again, I’m taking a week off work, pulling him outta that nuthouse and having a little heart-to-heart, screaming rant about appropriate and inappropriate theology for a three-year old.
“Haley said it,” he turns away and pushes a train beneath the surface.
I press for more information but the Kaiser is done discussing the matter. I still have no clue what the kid said. If you have any ideas, any thoughts that could put my mind at ease, lemme know.