kimberliah…

Dickie has reached a critical part of the standard male development

he has obtained the common knowledge of the hows and the whens in regards to passing the buck

…when it comes to passing gas

Butt ventriloquism at it’s finest

His first test run, in my presence, happened tonight…while in the drive-thru of McDonalds

***shit, these people eat at McDonalds a LOT***

shut yer mouth… It only seems like a lot…

Quit distracting me!

So, there we are…. in the McDonalds drive-thru…

***again***

Really????  You’re gonna come in here and try to screw with my story just because you happen to think we partake in the consumption of the MickeyDs a little too frequently?

Screw you! … and the grilled chicken salad you rode in on!

So…. we’re in…. the car.

Dickie looks over at me… wide-eyed,

“You smell poop, Momma?”

For the record, I smelled absolutely no poop.

I could smell french fries…

But no poop.

and I informed him of this.

He pondered my statement for a moment and declared his love of french fries

I put my maturity hat on and stated that the french fries must smell like poop…. and that based on this, Dickie loves poop

Simple algebra, my friends…

However, Dickie is quickly becoming a worthy crap-talking opponent

“Yes, me love poop…. all time!  Me poop all the days!  Me sleep on toilet… all time!”

While I originally thought this was just a common mother-son discussion about all things, poop… it turns out it was so much more.

Hubs informed me, later in the night, that Dickie had asked the poop question in his truck, that day, too…  Turns out he asked because he had farted and was trying to point the blame elsewhere…

ahhhhhhhhh….

My little boy is growing up so fast!!!