Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Hilarious, and Not so Hilarious

I was being naughty at work on Monday and went to check out Hobo Mama’s Sunday Surf where I found what might be the most hilarious post ever, for anyone who appreciates a good (and illustrated!) poopy story, which we all know I do. So there I was trying not to laugh out loud, for fear of bothering my office mate, which of course just made my laugh more shrill and obnoxious. My poor office mate has to put up with so much, between phone calls from my husband whenever SchmoopyBoy has a meltdown, and random evidence of my wasting valuable work time by laughing hysterically at random poopy stories on the web. But seriously, this one is goood. And, if you stop by sometime in the next year, this is going to be my life. Check out the rest of the blog too - funny, funny stuff.

Not quite so hilarious:
SchmoopyBoy’s language skills and sense of humor have been developing more and more. Somewhere along the line, he picked up an idea that toilet functions are funny. Don’t ask me where he learned that, I just live here… what? So, we’re now at the stage where every other word out of his mouth is “pee-pee” or “poo-poo”. I’m ashamed to confess I did crack up the first time or two it happened, more because I was surprised than anything, but of course that just encouraged him. So now, a typical conversation in my home goes something like this:

Me: Do you want butter toast or jelly toast?

SB: Poo-poo toast!


SB: Come play with me!

Me: OK. Would you like to play with your trains, or would you like to read some books?

SB: Pee-pee!

Me: I don’t think I want to play with pee-pee. How about trains or books? Or would you prefer to cook something for me in your kitchen?

SB: I cook POO-POO for you!

Me: I don’t think I’d like to eat poo-poo. How about a book? Do you want me to read you this book? (holding up popular book)

SB: Pee-pee book!

Me: sigh.

Even less hilarious:
Even less hilarious is when he yells “pee-pee” as loud as he can, completely randomly and unprovoked, at a restaurant. The looks from concerned and appalled customers, fearful that there’s about to be a stream of yellow heading their direction as they’re trying to enjoy their hard-earned weekend dining experience, are something to truly savor.

I may or may not have mentioned this in an earlier post. Parenting a 3-year old is awesome.

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