There are moments as a parent when your brain completely abandons you.
Not because anything dangerous is happening.
Not because your child is hurt.
But because your kid says something in public that lands with the force of a live grenade while strangers are standing nearby.
This happened years ago in the Baker’s parking lot in northwest Omaha.
It was one of those cold Nebraska fall afternoons where winter was starting to send warnings. The wind had that dry chill to it, and you could smell leaves and asphalt and somebody nearby grilling something they probably shouldn’t have been grilling in a parking lot.
The twins were little then.
Still in that stage where getting them out of their car seats felt like unloading tiny drunk people from a clown car.
I had just gotten both girls unbuckled and onto the pavement when we heard it overhead.
HONNNNK…
HONK-HONK-HONK…
A massive flock of geese was flying south for the winter in a perfect V across the gray sky. Hundreds of them. Loud enough that people all over the parking lot were looking up.
The girls stopped walking immediately.
Both heads tilted skyward in synchronized fascination.
And then Madie reacted.
Without even hesitating, she pointed up at the sky with one hand while pulling the other arm back like she was about to throw a fastball directly into the atmosphere.
Then she snapped her arm forward dramatically and screamed at the top of her lungs:
“SHUT UP, YOU HONKIES!”
The parking lot froze.
I froze.
My soul froze.
Because in my adult brain, the word landed very differently than it had in hers.
But to Madie?
They were geese.
They were honking.
Therefore…
Honkies.
Perfectly logical toddler linguistics.
Unfortunately, logic wasn’t helping me while twelve strangers turned toward us simultaneously.
Before I could even recover, her sister started jumping up and down beside her like an overexcited protest organizer.
“YEAH! SHUT UP!”
Now both of them are yelling at migratory birds like tiny, furious air-traffic controllers while I’m trying to speed-walk them toward the grocery store pretending this is somehow normal family behavior.
And of course that only made it worse.
Because now I looked guilty.
So I did what every panicked parent does in situations like this.
I overexplained.
“They mean the geese,” I announced to absolutely nobody who asked.
“The geese are honking…”
More laughter.
One older woman nearly bent over crying.
Meanwhile the girls were still staring skyward, deeply committed to silencing all airborne wildlife crossing Douglas County.
What’s funny now is how innocent it really was.
Kids don’t carry the meanings adults do.
They just build language from the world they understand.
To them, the equation was simple:
Dogs bark.
Cats meow.
Geese honk.
Therefore…
Honkies.
Honestly, from a branding standpoint, the logic was airtight.
But at the time?
I wanted the pavement to open up and swallow me directly into the underworld beside my shopping cart.
The geese, of course, remained completely unbothered.
Still flying south.
Still honking.
Still apparently immune to verbal warnings from angry toddlers in matching coats.
And somewhere over Omaha that afternoon, I’m pretty sure an entire flock unknowingly won an argument against me in front of a grocery store audience.
If this resonated with you, you’re not alone.
