I wish three-year-olds devoted as much effort to learning their letters and numbers as they do to perfecting potty talk. If working poop into every conversation were a preschool subject, Buster would be at the top of his class. He’s not as much into the alphabet or counting, although he can count to 19, by 19s, but the numbers in between 0 and 19 are white noise.
Going potty at the appropriate time and place is a big deal in a preschooler’s world. As such, poop is an important word to know and use in the development of good hygiene routines. That’s where it ends for the grown-ups, but for the three-year-old, the word poop is an expressive cornucopia.
And in those rare circumstance when poop doesn’t quite fill the bill, butt usually works as a good substitute to bring the point home.
For instance, Buster might offer his impression of Mommy or Daddy giving an ultimatum this way: “If you don’t pick up these toys right now, Big Brother will poop in his pants!”
This is not the conventional ultimatum, in that it involves his brother providing the negative consequence, but even this third-party ultimatum meets the minimum requirements: there is a demanded action and a consequence for not acting. I certainly don’t want Big Brother to poop in his pants. I don’t want anybody in the house to poop in their pants. When it comes down to it, I don’t want anybody anywhere to poop in their pants, if that’s an option.
Where the threat fails is in the fact that Big Brother has not been consulted, and the method of enforcing the threat is news to him. Big Brother will balk at his role in the proceedings, which may lead Buster to call him a butthead. This is tough on Big Brother as he is sensitive about what part of his body he carries atop his neck. Buster seems to have thicker skin than Big Brother. He is also more ruthless with the trash talk, which leaves him in better shape to endure the times when sibling rivalry goes verbal-nuclear.
Butts are not just a conversation piece. Sometimes they are real and can be a menace to society. One day, I came home to find Buster dressed in his Batman outfit, looking for bad guys to vanquish. He ran over to me and announced, “Your butt is the Joker.” Without giving my butt a chance to profess it’s innocence, he punched it in right in the proverbial nose. I was just happy I was facing the counter at the time because some villains can take a punch and some villains can’t.
Uh-oh! Looks like Batman stepped in something when he started accusing innocent butts of being arch-villains.
I can stand a butt punch from a crime fighting three-year-old as well as the next guy, but that doesn’t mean I should have to. I sat Buster down to have a long talk with him. Within minutes, our heart-to-heart devolved into a discussion about . . .
you guessed it . . .
poop.
Snoozing on the Sofa 
Sorry to say it, but my almost-21-year-old still finds butts and poop the funniest joke in the world. And he’s actually a relatively mature, productive member of society. There’s no hope.
I wonder what an immature 21-year-old would like. Guess I’ll find out in a couple of decades.
Given that my 57 year old husband still laughs himself silly over clearing a room or the house for that matter, I suspect this is never going to change. Apparently anything related to poop or air escaping one’s butt is just much more engaging than the alphabet. At any age!
Well, when you think about it, the alphabet is not very funny.
Unless you recite it in a different language🙈
Oh Scott,…I have three or four of your blog posts in my inbox, waiting for me to come back and read them. But then I saw this one, read the title, and immediately had to pop over. Apparently Poop and Butt still work their magic on adults. On a related note, yesterday my son decided to tell his great-grandparents (both in their 90’s) about a dream he had that involved him standing in his classroom and peeing until the whole room was filled with pee. He thought it was hilarious.
I guess if you just pee a normal amount in class it’s embarrassing. But if you flood the classroom people have to respect your talents.
That’s some pretty solid logic
I love potty humour! Shit jokes all the way!
Somehow I sensed that about you. Go figure!
Bring on the green cloud!
LOL Sorry for my sense of humor
Humor is welcome here.
I still giggle at the word “tits”. But we all know I have a problem.
Indeed. Giggling over “tits” is probably the least of your worries.
Don’t worry, they branch out as they get older. Just wait till farts aka poo air joins the party.
We have an all-inclusive party over here.
Well shit! (Sorry but it seemed appropriate)
I suppose it’s tangentially relevant to the story.
😉 Just don’t tell your boys I said it.
Scott, Buster, as a crime fighter must, fights crime wherever it rears its ugly head—sometimes to avoid being the butt of anyone’s joke, thus, occasionally stepping in…uh…well you know. Butt, I’m sorry you were not given the chance to profess your innocence. However, at least you were not threatened with being a butthead, like Big Brother was. Nevertheless, I just want to let you know that the world is loaded with criminal masterminds who are just itching to get into trouble, and happen to be full of crap. As long as this is so, Buster will have to go on saving our butts from the poopheads of the world.
If he does half as much as that, it’ll be a full day.
Scott, oh boy, you best not get your hopes up too much here. Hubby is still talking about how he cleared an aisle out at the grocery store when he “dropped one”. Really? And he still to this day tells me in graphic detail when he takes a good poop. My goodness! REALLY??? My suggestion is the sooner you break your boys of the butt talk, the better off mankind will be. Just sayin’ …… Tee hee …..
My first priority is to break them of potty talk in public. I may never break them of it altogether. I’ll consider it a win if I can keep it inside the home.
Our life has revolved around poop and poop stories. (It doesn’t get better at the age of 12) My son was nick-named Poopy Picasso because he used to poop during “nap” time and put his fingers in his diaper (or pull it apart) and let poop balls roll. Then, he’d squish them and finger paint the walls. (and bed)
When I told my mother-in-law about this, she said some kids don’t completely out grown this phenom. Her son, as a teenager, used to pull her into the bathroom… “Gotta look at this one mom – the shape looks like this…” (and he’d laugh and laugh) He was proud of his master pieces.
One day, I posted something on facebook and an aunt said “Oh yes, our family loves their poop stories. He’s true family.
What the heck?
Shall I assume that your mother-in-law had more than one son? Or are you the lucky winner?
“step-mother-in-law” – so, thankfully – no that is my husband’s step-brother to which I’m referring. Good lookin’ guy, still not married…