If my blog hadn’t been clear at any point, my son talks. A LOT. There are many times I want him to stop talking because he’s A. agitating me. B. embarrassing me. C. waking me up to ask me a question at 5am.
While walking both the dogs the other day, I realized just far enough away from our house that I forgot the dog-poo bags. I told Abe that we would walk the dogs down by the shoreline of the creek so that they could get their poos over with before we walked in the neighborhood. “Because if they poop in someone’s yard they might step in it?”
“Right, and it’s rude to let your dogs poop in someone else’s yard,” I explained.
Both dogs successfully pooped and we went on into the neighborhood. Until…
Charlie decided he had a second poop in him. “Mom! MOM!”
“I know, Abe,” I said in a muffled voice. “Shh. Just. Shh. Don’t say anything.”
“Don’t say anything about Charlie pooping and no one will know,” I yell-whispered.
“BUT HE’S POOPING!”
“Abe. ABE. SHH.”
Charlie finished pooping and we quickly walked away from his steamy little pile and pretended it didn’t happen. Until…
Mr. Nice Neighbor with the Black Lab Guy came out to say hello. We had a lovely little interaction and as we were beginning our goodbyes, Abe…my only son so I can’t kill him…said, “Charlie pooped in that yard over there.”
“WE CLEANED IT UP!” I didn’t shout it, but I said it loudly enough to not make sense in the current situation.
“No we di…”
“SO GOOD TO SEE YOU MR. NICE NEIGHBOR WITH THE BLACK LAB GUY!”
“We left our ba…”
“BYE!!!! ABE SAY BYE WE’RE LEAVING BYE.”
He’s also started a love-affair with the words poop, pee, butt, and penis. He can literally attach them to any other word and in his little 5-year-old mind he’s made a joke. Poop-pencils. Pee-trees. Butt-breakfast. These are all jokes made by my 5-year-old. In fact, I got a note home from school about his “language” and how we need to keep potty words in the potty. I informed him that he was not allowed to say those words unless it was to ME and in the BATHROOM. He agreed. About five minutes later he screamed, “BOOTY-BUTT!!!!”
“ABE! I just said not to say butt unless it was to me in the bathroom.”
“I didn’t say BUTT. I said BOOTY-butt.”
Later I informed him that he was not allowed to say those words attached to any other words or he would lose his legos. Good news! He didn’t come home with bad language notes today.
Farting is a big favorite now, too. We call it “tooting”. He doesn’t know the word “fart” and I’d like to keep it that way for a little while. But whenever he does break wind, he announces it.”I JUST TOOTED DID YOU HEAR IT?” He’s announced it in such places as the couch, the dentist’s office, the frozen foods section, and SOMETIMES TO STRANGERS JUST PASSING BY.
He eats soup with his hands. Today he informed me he wants to be an ice cream baker when he grows up. And he kindly explained to a woman in the shoe store that she was not allowed to his penis. Only MOMMIES AND DADDIES CAN SEE PENISES.
I am so grateful for an intelligent little boy who speaks and expresses himself with a vocabulary similar to that of a 12-year-old’s. But Lord. Let’s speed it up with the anointing of the mouth-filters, could we?!