My kids have been cracking me up. I truly love the ages they are, and (most of) the things they say.
My oldest has a book about Miss Spider and her new school at Sunny Patch, and it talks about how she doesn’t have the stomach for digging in dung. He asked me what that means, I told him. Fast forward to last night.
He was sitting on the throne, taking care of some business. He yelled to his father, I know what dung means! It means pooping! Guess what, I’m dunging right now! I’m dunging!
I fell over laughing.
My 2 year old took a while to start talking, and especially to start talking clearly. He told me last week, “Nikko poop outside”. Nikko is our dog, so yes, of course that’s where he goes. Jake likes to pretend that he is a dog, or a cat, at different points throughout the day. He told me, I poop outside. I a dog. I corrected him that, no, in fact, he does not, he goes in the house, preferably in the potty since we’re trying to get him to potty train. He keeps informing me that no, he will go outside. Since our dog is very old, and will be going to ‘live with God’ tomorrow, he has been, um, using our carpet as his dumping ground of choice this week, so I am fearful that I will be blogging soon about a 2 year old who is pretending he is a dog and either (a) pooping on my carpet, or (b), outside in my backyard, squatting. Watch for those updates.
In the meantime, the 2 year old has been investigating his own body. Last night in the tub, he was grabbing all things that ‘hang’ and checking them out. He told his daddy that his ‘rocks were falling off’. Uh huh. His father was laughing hysterically about that one.