Last week Mr. Hot Pilot, Munchkin and I spent our spring break down in sunny Florida visiting Mr. HP's family and torturing ourselves with the blinding sunshine, happy times of Disney World and the God-awful white sandy beaches of Tampa Florida. While down there with my two favorite guys I got to know my little Munchkin on a whole new level : I realized that at least three-quarters of his brain is filled with jokes about butts, poop and farts. If it weren't for the fact that I have neither the stretch marks nor the petrified fear of enduring childbirth, I would most certainly be convinced that this is my biological child. (Doesn't really matter if he is or isn't, he is still my Munchkin)
He is never shy about releasing his piquant bodily odors and our being in Disney World made this fact no different. It didn't matter that we were crowded shoulder to shoulder with about 10,000 other Disney freaks to watch the evening parade. While sitting on the shoulders of the man I love, he let loose his deadly gases. I didn't know quite what was going on behind me when I heard Mr. HP begin yelling "Dude, what the heck?" until the warm fragrance of doom overtook me and the man next to me gave me an evil glare and shuffled away from me. After a moment of appropriate shaming, I noticed something new about my little Munchkin - embarrassment. It used to be that we could joke around with Munchkin about things but this time was different. Instead we heard the exasperated sigh of a 7 year old who couldn't take the chiding of his super immature parents. "Dad-day! Car-ray!" was all he said in a rather valley girl-esque manner and sulked back to the car with us. Coming from the boy who is proud of his accomplishments and adores the smell of skunk (I swear) we were a bit taken aback by this new emotional development.
The next day he was back to his normal gross little boy ways of attempting to rub dead bugs and nose goblins on us. Instead of scolding him, I knelt down and kindly reminded him that due to his shorter stature, he is at perfect butt level of all of the other adults in queue and that he would be the first to suffer the effects if a butt-splosion were to occur.
Munchkins face contorted into a half grin/half look of fear.
This parenting thing? Totally rocks.
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