One day I explained to Max how it was more polite to use the word “obese” rather than “fat” when referring to heavy people. I didn’t think about the conversation again until a few months later when I told Max he had fat fingers.

He had a perplexed look, and I assumed I’d hurt his feelings by claiming that his digits were less than perfect.

“They’re obese fingers, Mama.”

That’s my boy.

You smell like some kind of bad breakfast. You smell like bad French Toast.

We don’t change our socks in Mexico.

Mama, how come you don’t fart?

I haven’t written any Maxisms lately, so here are some good ones.

You’re Not a Dude

My best friend and I use the word “dude” around each other heavily. It’s our thing. When I’ve used the word around Max, he has said, “You/he/she is not a dude.” I ignored it for a while, but have delved into it recently.

After much interrogation, I have deduced that to Max, black men are dudes. But only really dark ones. Not my husband. Not women. Just dark black men. I don’t know where he got this. I tried explaining that dude is just another word for man/person/guy and that anyone can be one. His reply:

“So a baby could be a dude?”

Yes, Max, a baby can be a dude.

Shower Habits

Max cleans his toes after taking off his socks. Before he takes a shower. I ask why he doesn’t clean them in the shower. He doesn’t have a reasonable answer, except that “Papa lets him.” No comment.

Piano

I asked why he hadn’t played piano in a while.

“I like YouTube better.”

Voltron

This is less of a Maxism and more of a quirky thing. We have Netflix on demand and Max is really into Voltron. As in, the show from the ’80s. And he wants a toy. As in, they don’t make them anymore. As in they are $400 collectors’ items.