A Conversation Worth Having Over And Over, Through The Years...

I try to keep the blog wholesome, but sometimes I have to report things as they are.

Daniel has a sport into which he drags me on a regular basis.  He'll call me into the bathroom as he's taking a bubble bath, and we have the following oft-repeated dialog:

Daniel:  Daddy, I have some suds for you!

Me [eagerly, if very naively, accepting the suds in my hands]:  Oh!  Suds!  Thank you Daniel!! I love suds!!!

Daniel [breaking into laughter on the forbidden word]:  It's poop!

At this point, I always yelp in horror, disappointed that this handful of white, frgrant, bubble-bathy, soapy foam should turn out to be the exact opposite of soap.

More laughter accompanies my meltdown, almost as if my pain and suffering were somehow a direct source of mirth to the lad.

 But the really entertaining, and touching, aspect of this tradition is that it goes back something like eight or nine years.  Ian used to play this terrible trick on me when he was small - I think he only moved on from it at some point in the past half-year or so.  And now Madeleine practices the same practical joke on me, with exactly the same dialog and maniacal laughter, more or less word-for-word.  And people seldom, if ever, lose interest in this completely routine-yet-somehow-still-gratifying dialog.

I hope they're not laughing at me...

(circa 2004 to present)