“There’s my little joblijock,” Bryce said as Jackie popped out from under the blankets.
Matthew rolled his eyes even as he swung the pillow he was holding at their three-year old son, who fell, squealing with laughter onto the bed, only to immediately spring back up.
“Look out,” Jackie said, lunging for Bryce. “I’m the jobeejock.”
Brcye swung her own pillow, once again knocking the laughing child to the mattress. “Oh, no! The jobeejock!”
“Why did you ever teach him that word? Matthew asked, though he couldn’t help smiling.
Jackie burrowed back under the covers, ready to pop up, yelling his laughing defiance. Bryce spared a glance toward her husband. “I can’t help it. I love words. And Jackie does too.”
“But joblijock?”
“Am I wrong?”
“No, Matthew said, swinging again as Jackie emerged, screeching once more. “It’s a perfect description of our little wildman.”
Susie Dent provides this definition of a joblijock: (19th-century dialect) any disturber of domestic peace—small children bouncing on the bed/lawnmowers at dawn/the one bird whose song has to be louder than all others at 5 a.m. [etc.]
Of course, when I read this, I had to write a story for it. Midjourney insisted on returning images of everything but a pillow fight. The one that accompanies this story was the closest it came.
Agree with Justin, adorable story that put a big smile on my face first thing this morning! (Not always easily done!) 😉
Haha! What an adorable story. Loved it. I may have to refer to my little ones as joblijocks when we play the “tickle monster” game. Seems like a golden opportunity! 😄
Thanks for the lighthearted start to this rainy Saturday.