Although it is rare for my entire family to eat dinner together because of my work hours, it does happen occasionally. We're not at the point where there is actual conversation, but we try to engage the kids in some sort of talk about the food they are eating. For instance, we might talk about the colors of the food they are eating or caution the kids of arterial build up due to too much red meat.
While eating dinner, I had to fart. I'm generally a pretty polite and courteous person, but I consider home a place where I can relax...and that includes relaxing my sphincter. So I let one go. Pretty loud, but not stinky at all. It was so loud that Lisa, Emma, and Andrew all looked up at me at the same time.
And then Emma said, "Daddy poop!"
I had to correct her. "Daddy did not poop. He just let out a toot-toot."
Andrew screamed, "Dada poop!"
I had to correct him. "Daddy did NOT poop."
"Why daddy poooooop?" asked Emma.
"Poop! Poop!" yelled Andrew. "Dada poop!"
"Dada poop," said Emma. "Stinky!"
The kids started to laugh and pretended to wave their hands in front of their face as if my fart suddenly invaded their personal space. I'm not too sure how long this poop conversation continued on, but it lasted long enough where it was at first funny, then it wasn't funny, but then it went on so ridiculously long it became funny again.
I tried to reroute the conversation by adding, "I think Mommy pooped!" But the kids weren't fooled by this false accusation.
"Noooooo," reprimanded Emma. "Mama no poop. Daddy poop!"
Andrew found Emma's use of the word "poop" pretty hysterical because he would just giggle and laugh like an infantile Salacious Crumb.
I suppose I should rethink my etiquette around the kids since they are at the stage where they are beginning to mimic us. But it's not only behavior, but the things that we say around the house. So please excuse me now while I explain to Emma why she should not use the phrase "big fat whore."
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