gross,  poo,  toddler life,  youth ministry

IHOP, Potty Tunes, & HowYOOs

This week was so fabulous. I weaseled my way into being a driver for one of my all-time favorite teenager’s midnight surprise birthday party at IHOP, took Beckett to his first toddler water park wonderland, and found a real treasure of a potty training song book that I’ll share with you in a moment.

IHOP, at midnight, with this girl is time well spent.

HowYOO?

So, 99% of what toddlers say and do is simply a reflection of what you say and do, right? Right. Which is why some of Beckett’s behavior, while very cute, is a little hurtful.

He’s currently in a stage where he likes to carry on lengthy conversations on his cell phone. He answers the phone, exchanges pleasantries….and then cackles like a hyena on meth. (I can only assume this is how he interprets my laugh.)

My favorite part of these conversations? His imitation of the perfect Southern woman. You know the one. The woman who never leaves the house without lipstick. The one who touches you a lot while saying things like “Yew are just tew sweet, sister!”

The one who answers the phone and says, “Howyoo?” in an abnormally high voice.

The one who, I guess, he thinks I sound exactly like.

Haha…hah…ha…

Gets me every time.

(It’s really hard for me to gauge whether something is actually funny or just parent funny, but that’s actually funny, right? Go with it.)

If you’re wondering what the “HA-HUH!” is at the end, that’s his imitation of “uh huh”. Not sure what the overly-pronounced H thing is, but it makes me giggle. (And by giggle clearly I mean cackle like a hyena on meth.)

I’m glad he’s learning the fake greeting thing at such an early age.  He’s going to rock it out in the church lobby very soon.

Potty Tunes

We found a real treat at the library the other day.

It’s some sort of song book for potty training written in the…80’s? 70’s? I don’t even know. Some decade where the threshold for songwriters was a lot lower. (Scratch that last sentence. I just remembered Ke$ha. And Lady GaGa and her meat clothes. The artist from the potty book is looking more and more talented.)

Three things:

1. You’re welcome.

2. If you ever hear me singing these, shoot me. I fully embrace parenthood up until the point where the phrase “tushy pushy” comes out of my mouth.

3. This book is someone’s claim to fame. Someone out there is saying, “I’m a songwriter. You may have seen my work in such books as ‘The Potty Songbook’.” Doesn’t that make you a little happy?

Also this week, unrelated to Southern women or “piddle diddling”, the two greatest pictures of the two most handsome men:

*swoon*

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