Mr. Leech.

Before I get into the funny story about Wyatt from our vacation, I have to explain a little weird tradition Sweatiepy has with the kids. You see, he is the master of coming up with weird phrases that end up becoming household terms around our house.


For example, whenever they would all be in the middle of a big, old Insult Fest (and by “they” I mean my mature husband and the kids) Bill began noticing that the kids would always end their insults with the grand insult of “Oh yeah?! Well, you’re a big, old, fat….eyeball!” After weeks of asking them “Why in the world am I an eyeball? Is that supposed to hurt my feelings? Oooooo….what an insult!” he finally just gave up and began saying “Ahhhh…and the old eyeball makes a comeback.” Now, at least once a week one of the kids will have to bring up an eyeball insult just so they can hear dear old dad say his classic line of “And the old eyeball makes a comeback.”

This drives literal-minded me NUTSO. What in the heck does “You’re a big, fat eyeball” even mean? Give me 5 seconds and even I can come up with a better comeback than that! But, because Daddy has his classic line to repeat now, being an eyeball has become a the coolest insult ever in this household and whoever is able to say it first is the King of Insults for the night.


Here’s another example…one night years ago Wyatt did something really sweet (like giving his dad an impromptu kiss) and Bill responded by saying “Wyatt…I always knew you were my Christmas Boy.” (Mind you, it wasn’t anywhere near close to being Christmas…not that that even explains what a Christmas Boy might even be.) Wyatt absolutely beamed when he received this “compliment” and proceeded to brag to the other kids that he was a “Christmas Boy” and they weren’t.

You wouldn’t have even believed the uproar that night. “Mom!! Dad says that Wyatt is Christmas Boy and that I’m not. Why can’t I be a Christmas Boy?!” or “Dad isn’t being fair Mom. If Wyatt gets to be a Christmas Boy, I should be a Christmas Girl!” The kids were absolutely, completely ticked off that Wyatt was something and they weren’t….even though none of us even had the slightest idea (and we still don’t) as to what a Christmas Boy even is.


So, I wrote all that just to say that Wyatt now has a new nickname.

Thanks to Bill, he is now known as Mr. Leech rather than Christmas Boy.

He is not happy about that change in names one bit.


Here’s the story…

One day on our vacation when Will and Wyatt went out in the early morning to fish off of the boat with Bill…they decided to take the boat into the little river that was an offshoot of our lake.

While they were there, Bill let the boys take their shoes off and climb into the water to play on the rocks in the river for a bit.

After playing there for awhile, they finally got back in the boat and slowly began putt-putting their way back to our cottage.


It was at the point that Wyatt looked at Bill and said “Daddy, what’s that black thing on the bottom of our boat?”

Bill looked down and, after checking the black thing out, replied “That’s a leech Wyatt. How did that get in the boat?”

Can I just pause for a moment and say UGHHHH. Leeches! Is there anything grosser than that?!

Wyatt claimed to have no idea how it got into the boat, but after a minute of questioning finally admitted that it had been on his leg.

At that point, he looked down at his leg where the leech had been and saw that he was bleeding.


He immediately began to howl, scream, cry, whimper, and basically have a complete freak out attack right there in the boat. Which is right about the time that Bill put the motor up to full speed so that he could get him back to the cottage as quickly as possible (so that I would have the pleasure of dealing with the freak out attack instead of him.)

A few minutes later all I heard was Wyatt screaming his head off as he ran up to the cottage. Very concerned, I met him at the door where he proceeded to tell me all about his sad tale of the leech.

I began cleaning him up and trying to calm him down when he looked at me and through his tears yelled “Why would God create leeches Mommy? I HATE them and I wish that God had NOT created them!!”

And on and on it went…

I finally ended up putting him in the shower where he continued to bawl his eyes out and intercede loudly with God as to why leeches were very, very bad and they should never have been created and he hated them.

When I put my ear to the bathroom door I could hear him yelling “Why God?! Why oh why would you do that to me? I hate them!!” in between loud sobs.


Have you ever had one of those moments when you feel really, really sorry for one of your kids….but at the same time you are literally ready to puke because you are laughing so hard…but you are trying to hide your laughter because you don’t want to hurt their feelings?

Yeah. This was definitely that moment for me. And for Bill. And for every single person in our home that day.

Oh. My. Word.

And since that time, Wyatt has been known as Mr. Leech.

You can now understand why he is not very happy about that new nickname one single bit.