Bust My Buffers!

You know that you’re completely confident in your manhood when you aren’t ashamed to sport a Thomas the Train tattoo to workout at the YMCA.  That’s just what Brantley did this week, and he assures me he knew full well that the tattoo was still on his arm as he pumped some iron in the weight room.  I’m not so sure.  He did get a few double takes from admiring passersby who he swears were, “just jealous.”  That could totally pass for a prison tatt.  He’s got some major street cred.

Joining the Movement- A Story of Triumph

Hard core potty training began at our house four days ago, and since then we have given prize incentives to Luke (2 ½) to help spur him on. I made him a treasure chest and stocked it full of crap from Dollar Tree and Target’s dollar bin. This method began working pretty quickly and gave Luke the little bit of motivation he needed for going peepee. Numero dos, however, was a different story. Nothing in the treasure chest seemed worth his trouble. I needed to raise the stakes.

“If you go poop in the potty, we will get you a Cranky,” I told him. Cranky is a crane, and member of the Thomas the Tank Engine family. Luke has wanted Cranky for sometime, but we couldn’t ever find one in the store. “No big deal,” I thought. “We won’t be needing him for a while.”

I was wrong. Lo and behold, did the boy go poop in the potty this morning AND almost all of it went into the potty. He began shouting, “I get a Cwanky!” Brantley and I were shocked, but a promise was a promise. The three of us got dressed and to Toys-R-Us we went.

I wish I had thought to check the price of the toy before promising him to Luke, and next time I will. I never imagined it would cost $40, thus making this morning’s bowel movement the most expensive in history. It better be worth it.

Luke-isms (and a lesson in personal intolerance)

Luke and I were in the check out line at Kohl’s earlier this week. He was almost tapped out on good behavior, and like a good mom, I had wrapped up my shopping just in time. He sat in the cart playing with his trains, Thomas and Percy. Suddenly and without warning, he threw them on the floor and shouted.

The lady in front of us turned around with an astonished look. “What did he just say?” she asked.

“Oh, he just said, “No, Percy and Thomas!” I explained. I was concerned that she may have misinterpreted the way he pronounces “Percy” for another word beginning with the letter P.

The lady laughed. “I could’ve sworn he just said, “No personal intolerance.”

“Umm, probably not,” I replied. Luke piped up again. “What did he say then?” the stranger inquired. I could tell that this was becoming a fun game to her.

He said, “Excuse me. I just did booty hiccups.”

Her only response was, “Oh.” Our conversation pretty much ended after that. She went her way, and we went ours, but I would like to think that we had left a lasting impression on her. Hopefully, she is somewhere living her life in a way that is tolerant of other people’s booty hiccups.