Having two little boys and an innate ability to laugh at childish things myself, I always knew that they would discover toilet humour one day. I think I could be forgiven for thinking that it would take them a little longer than it actually has to realise the downright hilarity of faecal matter and private parts, but that time is already upon us. Pretty much all Dylan and Xander do now is fart, laugh their heads off and joke about poo. I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion that they’re turning into South Park’s Terrance and Phillip.
Now, admittedly, I’ve probably played some small part in educating them on the amusing nature of bodily functions. I *may* have taught them the “pull my finger” trick and it’s possible that they may have heard me using childish words for parts of the human anatomy. But, as is always the case in posts of this nature, I’m the wronged party and quite clearly the victim in it all. Don’t blame me, blame Canada.
It’s always during supposedly civilised occasions like dinner time. One of them will strategically let rip, only for the sound to be drowned out before they’re finished by infantile laughter as they delight at just how mind-blowingly funny flatulence is. Their heads do seem to flap about like those of the animated Canadian duo too.
Then there’s the substitution of every other word with ‘poo’. Thinking about it, in fact, they basically use it as punctuation. There’s no logic to this, of course, but sometimes they hit the nail on the head completely by accident. They’ve referred to David Cameron as such, for example, and I can’t argue with that. And as they can pronounce ‘about’ properly, I guess I shouldn’t be too harsh on them.
I suppose Xander’s commitment to his scatological cause deserves some grudging respect. The other day, he was throwing an epic tantrum at bedtime. I eventually calmed him down to a state in which he was just sobbing and looking sheepish, and proceeded to take him upstairs. “Carry me, Daddy?” he asked. I picked him up and, as soon as I did, he guffed on my arm and laughed hysterically. Little sod!
As I write this, in fact, he’s playing with some figurines and Play-Doh; the latter is apparently dog poo and the former are walking in it. So that’s nice. Oh well, it’s completely normal and I guess I should take that as a good sign. Unless they find the South Park DVD and learn the words to the song Terrance and Phillip sing in it…