My son, the Boy Child, has a rather intimate relationship with his poopie. He's three and a half, remember. We had the following interchange I want to preserve. He was sitting on the potty while I was changing out of my suit.
BC: Pappa, the poopie wants me to move up on the seat.Me: Ok. Did the poopie tell you that it wanted to move.
BC: Pappa. The poopie can't talk. Poopie don't have mouth. [tone: earnest, but thinking I'm an idiot]
Now, while the poopie cannot talk, it does have a keen sense of adventure, as shown by this conversation my wife just sent me:
The Boy Child calls from the bathroom: "someone come wipe me!" I step in to perform my maternal duty. Then he asks "where does the poopie go? does it go to the bushes to get some chicken nuggets? or no, maybe waffles? or does it go to the city to see the dinisaurs?"Posted by Random Penseur at June 21, 2006 10:24 AM | TrackBack
Hee hee that's cute! Our sons seem to be about the same age, and with similar thought processes.
Yesterday he dragged my wife downstairs to see a bug that he called "little guy" (turned out to be smaller than the end of a pencil point). He then said very seriously "We'll call Grandpa Glen and he'll drill a hole to let little guy out".
Does TBC ask lots of hard questions like "Why the clouds boomin'?" or "Why the storm comin'?"
Kids are great.
Posted by: Oorgo at June 21, 2006 11:42 AM