The other night the whole family was lounging in the living room. JP was playing with his trains, T was crawling around, Hubbie was stretched out in the recliner and I was sitting on the couch taking it all in. I was blissfully thinking... "See! We can be a normal family!" then for some reason my thoughts turned to the reality that I was the only woman in a house full of men and what that might mean for my future.
Then I heard a noise. JP had farted. He just carried on like nothing happened. So the mom in me decided I needed to teach him to say "excuse me". Then the therapist in me thought about how most of the other adolescent boys I know were farting on purpose and all about telling fart jokes. I wasn't sure I was ready to push JP into that social norm but I though a few steps down that path might be good.
So I playfully jumped on the floor by him and said, "What was that!!!" He gave me a blank look and I wasn't sure if he knew the words so I said, "You farted!" and then whispered, "You should say excuse me." He repeated the "excuse me" and went on playing.
A few minutes later it happened again. I gasped and playfully said, "What was that!" JP turned and looked my direction and said, "My poop burped."
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