Alex and I were driving to pick Ty and Tony up from the gym where they go twice a week because their dad set them up with a personal trainer. Someday, they are both going to play for the NFL and in their speeches where they thank the little people in their lives, they’ll thank their dad for the large guns they sport on each arm thanks to their personal trainer when they were in 6th and 7th grade and then they’ll thank me for trying to remember to have Gatorade in the house.
Anyway, Alex and I had been talking about boys and makeup and how I’m #1 on her MySpace, just like we always do, when the van slid up to the curb. We stopped our conversation and waited for them to climb in. At first, I thought they were arguing about something that had happened during their training session. But as they climbed over the seat and hit me in the head with water bottles and shoes, I realized that they were just talking. Loudly. Very animated and over each other.
‘Finally!’ I thought. ‘They have bonded to the point that they can have deep conversations about things that really matter to them! They can be there for each other and back each other up. Give advice! They’ll always have each other!’ And I smiled and looked meaningfully at Alex so she would know that we should sit reverently and observe this wonderful moment. And here is what we heard:
“And – and then the one kids all ‘You don’t even know sucka!’ ”
“And then the guys all put up their sweatshirt hoods -”
“And you hear the voice say, ‘Then they slipped into Da Hood.’ ”
“And then the one cool guy -”
“He kinda twists his hat all side-to-side really fast and is all ‘Don’t make me go crazy, now!‘ ”
“And the other kids all (in a total gangsta voice) ‘Whazzup Run Nee One? Whazzup Die Ah Ree Ah?‘ ”
(laughing hysterically with each other)
(Alexandra and I exchange a look)
‘And so- and so then the close-up goes into the hands and it shows that symbol.’
(they slowly bring their hands towards each other and in unison chant)
‘Poop………………………….poop………………….poop…………….poop………….poop………poop
…….poop…..poop…poop..pooppooppooppooppoop.’
Yes. My sons were planning a movie short about poo. And it’s the only time I can think of that they were in total agreement with each other and had no conflict for an extended period of time. And so happy with themselves. Someday, it is conceivable that I will be invited to watch a film they have created together. And the subject of that film might be excrement. I will be so proud.
poop and farting are always funny, timely subjects. i look forward to the film’s release.
I have read your site for a few months, and it always makes me smile. This is the first time I have thought maybe I could make YOU smile. I’m not sure how this comment thing works, but I wrote a post (http://fannfare.com/?p=78) that you and your son might get a kick out of, including another link there. Perhaps because of his interest in poop, he could study to become a “poo-ologist.” Good stuff.
Thanks for always sharing — it’s been a great help for me to learn about blogging and to learn about you. Amy in DC
thank you, jen. i will send you front row tickets and share my snowcaps with you.
amy – i have never played a game where i get to choose the poop, and hopefully never will again, but thanks for the link. i now know what giraffe poop looks like and you never know when that will come in handy…. : )
xo
Oh, how I want to see the film about the poop! Bathroom humour is the very best kind of humour, so I like to say.
🙂