Potato Putahtoe

I walked into my 9yo’s room this evening, prepared to tuck him for the night. He was sitting at his computer; he oh-so-casually lifted up his left buttocks cheek and gleefully emitted the sound you might expect to hear.

I made no face or expression to dignify it. Things like this are pretty much old hat at the PBA so they have to be something really special to knock my socks off.

Realizing that I didn’t acknowledge his astonishing feat, he had to call attention to it. “Hey mom, did you hear that?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what it was?”

“Yes, I believe I do.”

“So what was it?”

“You tooted.”

“Nope!”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you did.”

“Nope, I FARTED.”

“Ok…but I’m pretty sure it’s the same thing.”

“No, I didn’t toot. I definitely farted.”

“Well, what’s the difference between a toot and a fart?”

“Ummm...they’re different words.”

He’s quite the wordsmith, that one.

(Editor's Note: Upon reading this post, my husband was quick to clarify the difference for me and for those of you who may be interested: a toot sneaks out on you; a fart is well-intentioned. So the 9yo was correct...he farted.)