This is my wee one's current favorite saying. He doesn't get to watch a great amount of television, and when he does, I make certain it is a channel that is kid-safe. Such as Nickelodeon...k...the commercials on Nick make me crazy, as a parent, but that's an entry for another day.
Anyhow, on Nick, they have these informative shorts that are of varying topics, all pertaining to health. One is about sugar. One is about scabs. Another about bogeys. Well, it seems my wee one has decided that the short about farts is especially entertaining. At the end of this particular short, the voice-over says "Know your farts, and let them rip!!!" I don't really mind these shorts...but "Know your farts, and let them rip!!!" is beginning to get a bit old.
Me, introducing my wee one to an elderly neighbor lady: "Honey, this is Mrs. G. Can you tell her hello?"
Wee one: "KNOW YOUR FARTS, AND LET THEM RIP!!!"
FIL to wee one: "Papa heard you like SpongeBob SquarePants."
Wee one: "KNOW YOUR FARTS, AND LET THEM RIP!!!"
Me: "Sweetie, do you want oatmeal or a banana for breakfast?"
Wee one: "KNOW YOUR FARTS, AND LET THEM RIP!!!"
A good friend of mine once told me, long before I was blessed w/ my wee one, that once boys hit a certain age...around 4, they become absolutely fascinated with their body, bodily functions, the noises it can make, and so forth. He also said it is a form of personal enjoyment a male never gets over. I thought he was joking. I guess the joke is on me.
Time to add up the equation:
1. When we went to visit FIL, a few states away (12 hour drive), our wee one felt compelled to check out every rest area between here and there. Stopping at a restaurant warranted at least three trips to the bathroom. I'm still trying to figure out what occurs to make our son go deaf when he enters a public restroom. I have witnessed countless people chuckling at the sing-song voice that emits from the bathroom when he is in there. I must admit that a miracle occurs upon his exiting, however...it seems that as soon as he steps out of there, his hearing is restored. Praise God!
2. A few nights ago, I cooked a ham for dinner. We tend to eat on it for 2 days, and then on the third day, I will usually make something like ham and scalloped potatoes, or ham and bean soup, etc. This particular time, I chose to make ham and bean soup. When we sat down for dinner, our son looks into his bowl, and then said "Mommy...is this the soup that makes me fart really good?" I think my husband is still trying to get the remnants of ham and bean soup out of his nose.
3. On an almost daily basis, my son asks me if I can help him make armpit farts. It's quite the sight, really. He gets on my lap, facing me, I put my hand in his armpit, and we work together to make the desired sound effect. When Papa came to visit recently, this was a source of pride that spanned three generations: my FIL, my husband, and of course, my son.
4. Walgreens, and I believe Walmart, now, carry self-inflating Whoopie Cushions. My son is now on his fourth one.
5. Ever see a wee one laughing so hard, they're crying? I have. My son is infatuated with our basement. It's nothing special...a run-of-the-mill basement, as basements go. About 3 weeks ago, while I was putting away laundry on the second floor, RJ and our german shepherd, Rachel, made a visit to the basement, unbeknownst to me. Just as I was coming back downstairs, I heard what I thought was my son crying. I rush to him, only to discover he was in the midst of guffaws. According to my son, he and Rachel were playing, and in the midst of play, Rachel ripped a good one.
6. My son hates to have his picture taken professionally. October 18th, I once again took him for this ritual. He refused to smile. If the Picture Lady told him to hold his hand one way, he held it the other. He would not cooperate. The Picture Lady then asked my son if he had any pets. He mentioned Rachel. He then felt compelled to relay the story in it's entirety, of what happened in the basement. (See number 5.) In the middle of the store, the Picture Lady began making farting noises...throwing in a forced burp or two. These are the best pictures RJ has ever taken.
Yes, I guess the joke is definitely on me. I wish I could partake of the apparent enjoyment of bodily functions that so many of the male persuasion seem to. So, I suppose there's no point in breaking up what seems to be a beautiful relationship. My son, and I must admit, my husband, are infatuated with farts to the point that it could be considered disturbing...well, at least to us rational, intelligent women. I just don't get it! That's okay though...there are some things in life that are to remain answerless forever, I suppose. So, until that answer is forthcoming, in the spirit of my son:
"KNOW YOUR FARTS, AND LET THEM RIP!!!"
