Potty Talk

Beth came over to help us at bedtime yesterday.  She gave Adrian a bath, but the fickle toddler screamed for Mommy to wash him instead.  After I finished bath time (by indiscriminately dumping water on his head instead of gently washing like Aunt Beth would–apparently he prefers the rough mommy method), he cried, “Befie hurt me!”

“What?  How did she hurt you?”

“Because her want to!”

“No no sweetie, Aunt Beth would never hurt you on purpose.  If she hurt you, it was an accident.  Aunt Beth loves you and wouldn’t try to hurt you.  Where did you get hurt?”

“Because her want to!!!”  He stubbornly insisted.

We could get no more out of him and he punished his beloved Aunt Beth with his grumpy “tace” and angry “hrmf!”  when she tried to hug him.

We made a cave in the bunk bed and passed a flashlight around, telling stories.  When Aunt Beth’s story turn came, she played to her audience.

“There were two little boys named Stephen and Adrian.  They were walking in the woods, when suddenly they found…a pile of poop!”

“Waaaaaat!?  Yeesssss!!!!  Awesome!!!  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!”  The boys screamed with delight and laughter.

“Do it again, Aunt Bethie!  Say it again!”

Aunt Beth laughed.  “Well, there were two little boys, and they thought they were riding their bikes to Dirt Mountain.  But instead, they saw….”

“A pile of poop!”  Supplied Stephen.

“And pee-pees!”  Shouted Adrian, giggling uproariously.

“Do it again!  Do it again!”  They bounced up and down on the bed laughing madly.

And Auntie Befie was forgiven, the beloved Aunt once more.


About jennyvogan

Author of "Stephen's Mom," a blog documenting the funny, crazy life of raising four boys while keeping my day job as an ultrasound tech.
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