Occasionally I take a bath with Addie at night. Not too often, because I typically like my baths scalding hot, and boiling your toddler is not recommended. But every once in a while, I brave the tepid water and jump in with the kid, which she loves.
But let me backtrack. Have I mentioned that Addie can fart like a sailor? I used to work at a truck stop, and this kid could put those guys to shame, both in terms of volume and odor. She is definitely our kid.
Basically, our approach to bodily functions is to laugh at them, because we are a family that has a lot of bodily functions. So, when someone toots, we typically make a big production out of it. As in, "Holy cow! Did a truckload of skunks just get slaughtered? Or did Daddy toot? Peeeee-uuuuu! Way to go, Sir Toots-A-Lot!" And so on. You get the picture. We're pretty much constantly joking about toots around here, and Addie gets her fair share as the heir apparent to the Kingdom of Tootsville.
Addie is particularly skilled at tooting in the bath tub, which is occasion for much drama, because we all know what happens to a toot in the tub--loud and stinky, right?
Do you know where I'm going with this?
All this is by way of saying that we aren't shy about tooting around here, and that we talk about tooting a lot, and we toot a lot, and it makes us all laugh like idiots. So, tonight, in the tub, (oh god, I can't believe I'm writing about this), I let a big toot fly. Or gurgle, rather.
But instead of laughing and saying something like, "Mommy, you tooted! You're so funny!" Addie looks at me, completely straight-faced, waits the most perfect comic beat, and then says, "Mommy? That's why we don't toot in the tub."
I stand corrected. Apparently, we are no longer a family that toots in the tub. Good to know.