NaBloPoMo Day 23: BooBoo Chicken Butt

BooBoo Chicken Butt is what Max has been saying all day. Usually when addressing me.

(During breakfast)
Me: Max, do you want scrambled eggs or yogurt?
Max: Yogurt, BooBoo Chicken Butt, please.

(When being tucked into bed at bedtime by Dan and I)
Dan: Good night, Max. I love you.
Max: Night-night, Daddy.
Me: Night-night, Max. Sleep tight.
Max: Night-night, BooBoo Chicken Butt.

And so on. My only question is, Max gets the words "chicken" and "kitchen" mixed up, so is it possible that he is calling me "BooBoo Kitchen Butt?" Does that make any more sense than the other thing?

Also possible: I occasionally refer to Max as "Booboo." When Dan's mother and nephew were here last month, Justin taught Max to say "Guess what? Chicken butt." It's possible that he's combined the two seemingly unconnected things in his head, I guess.

Sometimes I look at this kid and I can't figure out what I'm looking at. By which I mean, not in some kind of existential, metaphorical way, but sometimes I really can't understand a fucking thing he says to me. And I'm aware that it will probably only get worse.
Yesterday's alternative Thanksgiving dinner was a qualified success. The shrimp and cocktail sauce were absolutely delicious, as were the sausage poppers (I'm sorry, Kimberly, I just can't call them sausage balls--at least not without laughing). The water chestnuts wrapped in bacon and glazed with teriyaki were good, but I didn't care for that particular kind of teriyaki sauce--it tasted vaguely burned. The crab cakes were good, not great, but the homemade tartar sauce was delicious. The crab and artichoke dip--well, that's one of my specialties, and in my opinion, it can't be beat. The clam dip with bacon and scallions is also very good, but I'm not quite sure what to do with it. It was okay with veggies, but left something to be desired. Potato chips, I think, maybe? Or crackers of some kind. Triscuits. I have piles of everything leftover, except the shrimp which we ate all of, thanks to BooBoo Chicken Butt, who ate about twenty of them all by himself. He kept asking for them by name, except coming from him, "shrimps" sounds just like "shits."

Dan and I did not shop this morning. We went out to Target this afternoon and picked up a few presents, but the crowds had thinned considerably by then. Other than that, we are laying low this weekend. Hope everyone had a good holiday. Enjoy the long weekend.