Let ribaldry live -- multiple bungholes for everyone!
I'm not always mature, so when Frankie comes downstairs and starts relentlessly antagonizing his sisters, I hit back where it hurts -- with toilet humor.
Rich has passed his loath for inappropriate butt talk on to his son -- so while Frankie refused to stop dishing out his brand of funny -- frustrating his sisters to the point of tears (Oh, that's funny) -- of course I come in with the big guns and say,"Girls, did you know Frankie has two poopers?"
Laughter.
Then Lizzie picks it right up -- she comes to the defense of her brother with, "Mom, you have 100 poopers! I can see them with my eyes, because I can see through pants."
I wonder aloud if these are big or small poopers and do they all fire at once, or take turns? Is it like a pooper pipe organ or what? I am aware I am pushing the visual envelope, but that's the fun of it, right?
Well, much to my dismay, it is my Winnie who brings out the tone of shame and tells me to stop talking so gross while she is trying to eat lunch. Frankie was hot on her heals with his own wet blanket of shame. "Sure Frankie, you can start it, but can't finish it, can you?"
I made a small plea to Winnie to not lose her sense of humor, but I think they've gotten to her.
I should have come to her defense when Frankie was shaming her for farting on her sister, but I let the kids hash it out themselves and now look what's happened. I mean, I don't think she needs to be farting on her sister, but I don't think she needs to hang her head low for having done so either.
Life kind of sucks a lot of the time, what's the point if you can't have fun with a pooper or two?
Rich has passed his loath for inappropriate butt talk on to his son -- so while Frankie refused to stop dishing out his brand of funny -- frustrating his sisters to the point of tears (Oh, that's funny) -- of course I come in with the big guns and say,"Girls, did you know Frankie has two poopers?"
Laughter.
Then Lizzie picks it right up -- she comes to the defense of her brother with, "Mom, you have 100 poopers! I can see them with my eyes, because I can see through pants."
I wonder aloud if these are big or small poopers and do they all fire at once, or take turns? Is it like a pooper pipe organ or what? I am aware I am pushing the visual envelope, but that's the fun of it, right?
Well, much to my dismay, it is my Winnie who brings out the tone of shame and tells me to stop talking so gross while she is trying to eat lunch. Frankie was hot on her heals with his own wet blanket of shame. "Sure Frankie, you can start it, but can't finish it, can you?"
I made a small plea to Winnie to not lose her sense of humor, but I think they've gotten to her.
I should have come to her defense when Frankie was shaming her for farting on her sister, but I let the kids hash it out themselves and now look what's happened. I mean, I don't think she needs to be farting on her sister, but I don't think she needs to hang her head low for having done so either.
Life kind of sucks a lot of the time, what's the point if you can't have fun with a pooper or two?
Labels: kids
posted by kim at
12:37 PM
2 Comments:
Agreed! My claim to fame was *vomiting* on my sister---in her hair while she was asleep! (we used to share a bed). Imagine waking up from a restful sleep with a head caked in vomit!
Good one!
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