I got what I wanted for Christmas. I was able to pick up Jackson and bring him home Christmas afternoon. Jackson will be going to the partial hospitalization program on Monday and Austin will probably be graduating from the partial program on Monday. So, it was a good quiet Christmas here at home with my kids. Santa brought us Just Dance 2 for Wii. We had a ton of fun playing this. Actually, let me rephrase that. Savannah had fun kicking our butts. Jax, Lex, and Austin had fun dancing. I had fun listening to the kids tell me it looked like I was having a seizure. I think they were just jealous because I looked like a Rockette, or that chick from Flashdance. After the third song, I was pretty sure I was having a heart attack, so I quit and sat down to have some Christmas cookies and egg nog (the American Heart Association's recommended treatment for heart attack).
I noticed something Christmas day. I mean, it's really been on the edges of my brain for some time, but it completely sunk in yesterday. It has to do with Clay's vocabulary, or more specifically, these three words that seem to permeate his speech on a regular basis. Poop, Fart, and Butt. Every Christmas carol he sings has his new and improved lyrics. "Frosty the poopman had a very farty butt." "He sees you when you're pooping, he knows if you're awake..." Rudolph, the poop-butt reindeer..."
It's not just Christmas songs either. Nope, these three words are an integral part of his daily rhetoric. For example,
"What do you want for lunch, Clay?"
"Spaghetti and poopballs."
Imagine his surprise if I actually served up that delicacy.
"Clay, get in bed and I'll tuck you in."
As he runs off toward his bedroom, blowing raspberries, "I'm fartman!
Hmmm, on second thought, maybe I won't tuck you in.
I'm sure it's just a phase he's going through. I seem to recall the older kids going through a potty talk phase. Of course, with them, I'm thinking this occurred back when they were actually potty training and not when they were nearly SEVEN years old, but hey, a phase is a phase, right? I wonder if I could take him to speech therapy for this because I'm afraid this is going to be a long-lasting phase. Why, you ask? Because no matter how straight-faced and stern I manage to stay when he spouts his potty talk, there are five other kids who find it hilarious and let him know by laughing their poopy butts off.