Little boys are into farts. Heck, big boys are into farts. My nephew is no exception. He spent the night with us and as we were driving out to our home he was telling me all about his imaginary friend, Fire Fartman. Really sounds like a dashing fellow if one can get past the odor of his many talents with farts.
Later that evening, all three kids were playing out in the back. They were running every which way and playing in that totally absorbed way that kids do. When the world fades away and only the play at hand exists. As I watched them, my nephew suddenly broke away from the group and came running toward me in a mad dash.
"Hey, hey! Auntie, you know what?"
I couldn't possibly so I replied, "No. What?"
"You know sometimes when you fart? Like when you fart, sometimes poop comes out of your butt?"
Oh no, no, no.
He continued, "Well, I was just out there playing and I farted and some poop came out of my butt."
I hung my head, closed my eyes, and sighed. Welcome to my world.
Then I looked at him and said, "I will go get the Shout."