Potty Mouth

Let’s just get this straight. I am a girl. I am the youngest of 3, and my only brother was 8 years older than me. I do not understand boy humor. The words poopy, toot, fart, diarrhea, buttcrack or penis are not at all funny to me. Nor do I enjoy hearing A and Z repeat these words over and over to each other like they’re doing a performance at the Comedy Store, followed by outbursts of uncontrollable laughter. My husband tells me it’s, “just boy stuff.” Well, that’s fine, if they want to do it, they can do it out of my earshot. Not in the car where I am held captive. Not at the table when I am trying to eat food, and not when they are supposed to be quiet and going to sleep. And it seems the more I try to correct it, the funnier the words become to them. I would like to believe my boys will soon, or maybe eventually grow out of this…but I think I have to face the grim reality that my husband is often the one who gets them going. And then my hopes were really dashed on Easter when they talked to their “papa” on the phone and his first words were shout outs of poopy, and a continuation of other words. All my hard work undone. “Fart!”