Saturday, June 23, 2012

Underbelly

I am the second oldest of six children. My older brother Andrew is sixteen months older than me and was my best friend as little children. He was always busy and I was quite content to just sit and watch him zoom about around me.

Andrew had a tendency to repeat things he heard from others. I remember Mum telling me when they moved to a new area, they went to the park and Andrew overheard some kids swearing. The following Sunday they attended church in their new area for the first time and sat near the back. Andrew stood up on the seat and yelled out his newly learnt swear word as loud as he could.

It must have been reasons such as this why my parents made the decision to come up with a little nickname for a certain part of the male anatomy. I know this is very common and the little names people come up with really amuse me.

My parents decided "belly" would be safe - I don't even know how they came up with it. We referred to our stomach as our "tummy" anyway so there were no issues with confusion there.

This little nickname worked well until Christmas a few years on. Once we were all old enough to understand the actual words, imagine our shock when we were read "TWas the Night Before Christmas". For those less familiar with this poem, the line that furrowed my eyebrows is;

"The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round BELLY,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!"

Even though I still liked Santa and I certainly liked the presents, I have to admit, this poem did change my view of him a little.

2 comments:

  1. I still remember the look of disbelief on your faces when I first read the Little Golden Book with this poem in it to you. Took me a while to catch on to the cause of your shock:) love you lots Mum. Xxxx

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  2. I love this story no matter how many times I hear it. It's hard as a parent to keep up with what your child knows, I forget sometimes what I've taught Pacey for better or worse.
    Santa will never be the same.

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