Potty Talk
Join us in welcoming our guest blogger, Melissa. This photographer extraordinaire claims to be a semi-normal person who is surrounded by crazy people (namely her two daughters). This also means she will fit right in at MHM! She can be found blogging at The Howell Herald.
It must be a wonderful day in a child’s life when they discover that words only permitted in reference to bathroom happenings can be used in every other possible situation, and with great comedic effect. The wonderment felt by this discovery is directly inverse to the horror that their parents feel when they discover that they regularly use words such as “pee pee” and “poo poo” without batting an eyelash. Words that, in their more sophisticated pre-parent years, would never have been permitted to slip past their lips.
Perhaps the ease with which parents discuss disgusting bodily functions emboldens the children to do the same. Everything is funnier if you attach the word “pee” or “poo” to it. “The Princess and the Pea” becomes “The Princess and the Pee Pee.” Any suspicion of gas is followed by the three-year-old surmising, “Maybe Daddy did poopies in his underwear!” This, of course, is followed with great peals of laughter from herself and the five-year-old, and stifled smirks from the parents.
They also go around spending a great deal of their time trying to identify foul smells and the person who was the source. My three-year-old, who is still very honest, readily admits when it is her. The five-year-old also readily admits when it is the three-year-old.
One time, when the three-year-old had been identified as the gaseous culprit, she said with remorse, “Yeah, we should have not bought this body.” I said, “We should not have bought your body? We should have bought a different one?” She said sadly, “Yeah.” Then the five-year-old piped up, very helpfully: “No! Heavenly Father just made her have a stinky, smelly bum!”
One night at dinner when every member of my family had either burped or passed gas within a one-minute timespan, I said, “I am surrounded by a bunch of rudies! Rudie tooties!” I said. The three-year-old finished up by saying “Stinky booty!” So now we have a new class of potty words in our house–rhyming potty words. “Rudie tootie, stinky booty!” never fails to bring on the laughter.
Disturbing, I know. But maybe just maybe it sheds some light on what the term potty mouth is really all about…..
Which begs the question: will there ever be a time when I’ll be able to be couth again?
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I have three boys. There is no such thing as couth!!!!
I make absolutely no claims that I was ever sophisticated. Motherhood has sent me to a new potty mouth low.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way!
My boys are teenagers and I thought it would change over time.
It has. It only got worse. :-)
The real problem is when these domestic euphemisms are broadcast to non-family members in public places with much zeal and enthusiasm.
At this point, you realize that uncouthness is the rule and not the exception.
You can sure tell who has kids, at the office or elsewhere, by how they refer to these bodily functions…. the best part is they don’t even know they have done it.:)
“I’ll catch up with you at the meeting but I have to run to the potty to go pee pee.”
Such is to my lot soon, especially as I’m having a boy.
My 5 year old is constantly talking the potty talk. He uses it in just about every single sentence he speaks and it drives me nuts. I try and remind him that it’s not proper, but eh…..it comes with the age / territory doesn’t it!
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We have kind of a funny rule about that in my house — you’re only allowed to talk about bathroom things IN the bathroom. I must admit that I break this rule frequently. How could I not, when there are things like the article in today’s Denver Post about 14,000 year old fossilized poop? I kept checking the date, sure it was a leftover paper from April 1. Nope! http://www.denverpost.com/search/ci_8805058
My daughter was the most difficult kid to potty train on the planet.
Does anyone remember the Greek myth of Sisyphus, who was given the punishment to push a huge rock up a mountain, only to see it fall down again, day after day?
That’s what it felt like training Miss D.
I am about to embark on training my second daughter, but I have to purchase new potties. One day, Miss D. went into a rage, screamed, “Me hate the potty! No use the potty no way!” and kicked both of our little cute port-a-potties hard enough to hit the wall and disentigrate.
I’m not looking forward to my summer.
And by the way, have you ever had your kid in a public bathroom and s/he announces, at the top of her lungs, “Hey, Mama, good job making that poo-poo.” ACK!
These comments are totally making me laugh! By the way, fossilized dinosaur poop is no joke. We checked out a book on it at the library and I wrote about it on my blog. It is very informative. If you would like to increase your knowledge of fossilized poop, please click on this: http://howellherald.blogspot.com/2008/03/perils-of-public-library.html (or copy and paste into your browser). Thank you.
Well written, Melissa! What a funny family you are! I forgot I was reading your story–that’s a compliment, by the way. Proud to be your BBF!!!
What fun! By the time your girls are teens they will either be dead from embarrassment or being followed by the paparatzi because of their famous mother who published their life story in blazing details from birth to present. Keep up the hilarity! GMH