After all the poop talk here on my blog, it probably shocks you that my kids have become "potty" mouths.
You might think it natural for Norah -- she is 3, and the very nature of 3 year olds is to be little shits -- but for Caleb, who is still an innocent 20 month old, it might come as a surprise. Alas, the little dude has discovered the descriptive language to identify the critical emission of bodily functions.
On the practical end, he's begun telling us (sometimes) when he's pooped. He approaches, tilting his hips and holding out his butt and declares, simply, "Poop!" It's helpful. Seriously, it's actually awesome. It makes the guessing game of "What's that stink?" way easier.
On the not-so-practical end, he's begun identifying farts. Which, for him, probably is practical. To us, it's just hilarious.
The dude has less than 50 words in his lexicon, but last week, he tooted and said matter of factly: "Fart." I agreed, by all technical terminology, it was a "fart"; however, in terms of the physical traits, it seems that the little poot emitted by a toddler should be labeled something far cuter, something like a "fuzzy bunny." As in, "Awwwww, Caleb just let a fuzzy bunny loose!"
Anyhoo...if I haven't lost you by now, I'll move forward.
On Sunday, the kids and I were at the dinner table and Jerry was in the kitchen finishing up the cooking, and Jerry farted -- a classic Jerry move; it was loud and rumbly and everything that's the opposite of a "fuzzy bunny." Caleb didn't miss a beat, he pointed a finger at the kitchen and yelled: "Fart!"
Yes, I certainly agreed: THAT was a fart.