This is what I heard while getting my lunch together this morning. Sass was sitting at the table, munching happily on his cereal while Sprinks was alternating between shoving fistfulls in her mouth and gleefully throwing handfuls on the floor.
"What?" I wanted to make sure I'd heard what I thought I'd heard.
You see there was the "function incident" a few weeks ago when Sass was trying to tell us that something mechanical wasn't working. "Mommy, Daddy... it not fuck... fuck... " (by this time our eyebrows had climbed to our hairlines and you could hear the crickets chirping in China). "It not fuck-tion." Big smile. "OOoooohhhh, okay. It doesn't function? It doesn't work?", we said.
"Yeah, it's not working."
Anyway, back to this morning....
Sass: "Mommy, I hafta fart" (looking concerned)
Sass: "I hafta fart." Rubs his tummy. I walk over.
Me: "What's going to happen?" Still playing dumb in the hopes that this is a "function incident".
Sass: "It rolls around in here (points to tummy) and comes out down here (points to his underwear)."
He start to look a little desperate, throws himself out of the chair (his normal mode of dismount), and trots toward the bathroom.
Me: "You mean pass gas?"
Sass: Yeah, Mommy. Pass gas." As he opens the bathroom door, he looks back at me. "And the gas is gonna come out!". *triumphantly slams the door*
He's gas powered....