Andy's boot talk

Never to be outdone, Andy has some new tricks up his sleeve.  If I weren't his mother, I'd think his antics were funny. 

He's arrived at that magical age where he's picking up less than desirable behaviors from other kids.  And despite his mother's disapproval, he continues with the behavior.  He's latched on to the least well-behaved child in Sunday school and from him, Andy's picked up potty talk. So he'll say things like "that's a fork, poo-poo."  Really, anyway he can add poo-poo into the conversation, he will.  Mama does not tolerate this.

What's harder to maintain my poker face with is when he throws in "booty."  He gets this impish look on his face, holds his hand up over his mouth - maybe I won't hear him - and throws in "booty" snickering all the while.  And then immediately he gets dead serious and says to me, "That's not potty talk.  That's boot talk."  Boot talk?  This kid kills me. 

Speaking of all things bathroom related, Andy's becoming his father's son.  Well, really, he's embracing his boyness in his appreciation of bathroom humor.  We have a potty training book that describes the little boy using the potty the first time as "tinkle, tinkle, toot."  Granted, its supposed to be cutesy.  But it slays Andy.  He laughs so hard the veins stand out in his neck and his face turns red.  "He went 'toot'!"  And when he's laughing so hard he can't breathe, its hard to remain stone-faced.  I know, I know, it just makes it worse.   

Added to the list is sticking out his tongue.  Makes me want to smack that tongue back into his mouth.  There's a reason the top child-rearing experts don't recommend this method.  However, it will make an appearance in the chapter in my book about unorthodox discipline methods.

This kid.  He gets funnier everyday.  Somedays (seems like a lot of them recently), he gets closer to me ripping his arms off and beating him with them (also to appear in aforementioned book chapter).  If he didn't make me laugh, I might be tempted.