We both got home late last night. I was in bed reading when he burst into the room and started blowing raspberries on my belly.
Him: Name a food.
Me: Um…french fries?
H: Hmmmm….Ok! This is the noise of a french fry poop. Fffftttt, ffffftttt, ppbt, fffftttt…
M: Ew!! That is SO gross!
H: Wait, there’s more. Pppppbt, fffftttt…
M: Ok, that is too disgusting. No more.
H: I just have finish. Ffffffttttt……………Pbtttttttttth….Ploop!
M: YUUUCK!! Oh my god, I’m marrying a three year old.
H: A three year old, you say? Plop, plop, pppptttthhh…
M: Are you making the sound your poop would make if you ate a three year old?
H: Yep!
I will admit that I giggled uncontrollably for about five minutes, but tried to make it very clear that it was his weirdness I was laughing at, not the poop sounds. Boys are so gross.
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