My youngest, Chunky, is chatty. He wakes up every morning stuffed-to-overflowing with words. He requires the entire day, and countless pairs of listening ears, to empty his language load.
It starts the moment he crawls into our bed in the morning, continues through breakfast, car rides, school, errands, homework, dinner, bedtime routine, reading time, prayers, and goodnight kisses.
And he doesn’t see any reason to stop talking just because he happens to be on the toilet.
This behavior is normal and even cute for toddlers. But--trust me on this--it gets more and more disconcerting the older they get.
If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard “MOM!” from behind the bathroom door. . . And it’s always in that urgent tone of voice that lets you know you’re either going to be running to grab more TP or explaining (again) why blue frosting yesterday equals green poop today.
But more than half the time when I arrive at the door and say, “Yes?” Chunky responds with, “I love you, Mommy.”
Kory and I call this phenomenon “Random Utterances from the Bathroom.” We try not to think too much about why it always occurs to Chunky that he loves his parents while he’s on the toilet. We just tell him we love him too and go on about our business while he finishes his.
So the other day I wasn’t surprised at all to be called to the boys’ bathroom while Chunky took his bath.
I peeked in, ready to hear the adventures of underwater soldiers or washcloth alien creatures. “Yes?”
Chunky looked at me, dripping and wide-eyed, his barely-there eyebrows raised high.
“Mom, I just farted, and I could smell it underwater. I didn’t even know that was possible! I bet it’s some kind of record!”
I was speechless for a moment, but taking my que from Chunky’s animated expression, I stumbled into the appropriate congratulations. I agreed that it probably was some kind of record. But who do you contact to get a momentous event like this recorded for posterity?
In the end, we were forced to quietly celebrate the earth-shattering event with only immediate family present. Then, like so many profound historic moments, it slipped away under the murky waters of time.
photo by Flikr contributor tawest64
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6 comments:
I have a nonstop talker also. Fortunately for me, he doesn't mind talking to himself in the bathroom. Often when he comes to find me during the day and I ask him what he's been doing, he says, "Oh, just talking to myself."
There's always one. We had one, too. I think you might be able to call these utterances P.O.O.P., or Parenthetical Observations Of the Privy. :)
~Debbie
Brilliant, Debbie. I love it!
The bathroom is a place for reflecting... :-) Potty humor is so much fun. I'm glad you're not squeamish posting about it.
Ah, E, just wait until Chunky farts in the swimming pool! Trust me, Chlorine does nothing to neutralize the odor!
oooxxxxooo
Oh. My. Word.
This kid belongs in a book.
But he'll probably grow up and write books.
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