Tuesday, March 10, 2009

A Paean to Poo

Tonight second son insisted on shouting out rude words during dinner, so husband put him in a time out.

[Disclaimer: Yes, I did buy the Captain Underpants series for my sons, but can the excessive potty humor in those books really be responsible for the torrent of doo-doo words now uttered in my household?]

Anyway, the boys' potty talk has reached proportions unheard of in modern history. The conversation goes something like this most days:

Mother: Have you brushed your teeth?
Elder son: You mean PUT YOUR TEETH IN THE TOILET?
Second son: Take a bath in the toilet?
Elder son: Put your buttocks in the toilet.
Second son: Toilet poo-poo weiner! Buttocks poo-poo stinky butt!
Mother: But, have you brushed your teeth?
Elder son: I brushed my teeth [long pause]. IN THE TOILET!

This goes on all day and generally involves putting lunch in the toilet, one's backpack in the toilet, and butts and winkies "into the toilet." The toilet is the receptacle that inherits the universe. It is the swirling nexus-lexus of our world, drawing all intelligent conversation into its gurgling depths. Don't forget to jiggle the handle!

So second son couldn't stop himself today, and wound up in a vastly extended time out. [Please note that as the purchaser of the aforementioned Captain Underpants series, I cannot in good conscience apply time-outs for potty talk. Those who enforce such time outs are not me. I am too busy laughing.] Every time a doo-doo word was uttered, the clock reset itself for three minutes. For close to 45 minutes the little mite sat in his chair and, filled with glee, prattled on the following paean to poo:

Second son: I think about winkies! I think about butts! Buttocks poo-poo toilet. I have a winkie, it's really cool. Another glorious day to celebrate our butts! Another glorious day to celebrate our butts!
Daddy: [from other room] Time out starts again NOW!
Second son: Winkies! Butts! Poo! Poo! Winkies! Butts! Poo! Poo! Winkie party, winkie party. I have a butt. Buttocks. Buttocks. Buttocks. I think about butts. And pooooop! {maniacal laughter}
Daddy: [from other room] Time out starts again NOW!
Second son: Doody doo-doo. Poo. Poo. Poo. Poo. Take a bath in the toilet. Toilet! Toilet!

45 minutes later....

Second son: Stinky Winkie! Stinky Winkie! Doo doo! Winkie butt! {maniacal laughter} Turds. Butts. Poop. Poop! Poop!

3 comments:

X-Stina's X-Ploits said...

You sound like you have a couple poopie diaper babies...It truly must be a 4-6 year old thing.

Anonymous said...

Great Day in the Morning! Ya know, the lad's got a point...I mean, one does think about butts now and again...sometimes with maniacal laughter attached...perhaps we ALL need a time out?

Yrs,
Old NH

Helen said...

did you know that your children are born geniuses?
you must know that

with love from the swirling nexus-lexus of our world