warning: this post contains potty language

I love my little boys. Camden is so grown up now, completing time-line projects and mastering his reading words. Aidan is loving preschool and looking at his flashcards...it's the simple things in life.

Because I laughed so hard at the following story and I must write it down for posterity/humiliating purposes, I am going to share with you a story involving poo/poop/excrement/sh#$ or whatever you want to call it. You've been warned.

Last Saturday Nate's parents were in town and treating us to dinner (I really love my in-laws and their generosity, that or they don't like my cooking...hmmmm). We were all killing time in Barnes and Noble reading books about Llamas in Red Pajamas and farting dogs, good times, when Aidan announced very loudly,"I need to go poop!"

Zoom into me ducking my head and shushing him while my head swivels all around looking for a restroom. I spot it at the back of the store, which is on the wall farthest from us, and we make a bee-line. Nate had gone to pull the car around and our reservation time was 10 minutes away.
As we approached the doorway, I noticed that we were leaving the clean, warm, coffee scented environment of this serene bookstore and had entered into a bathroom that was truck stop worthy. So gross.

Aidan sits down on the disgusting toilet, coat and all because I'm hoping this will be speedy and the others are waiting for us. And you all obviously know where this is going, it took for.ever! My lightning pooper failed me and he was experience stage fright or something because the process was slow. Or maybe it just felt like that to me, standing in a dirty, smelly, cramped bathroom stall with my son.

As I ask," Are you done yet? Stop talking and just go! Concentrate!"

Aidan replies that it's not coming. Then the talking ceases, his eyes became very focused on the stall door and begin to water(are you grossed out yet?) and as the fecal matter is finally expelled from his cute little body, he says, "Yyyeesss!"
I kid you not! It was like he had scored a goal. My sweet little pooper then looks up at me and finishes with: "My bum is very strong."

This statement made me snicker and giggle in a most adolescent fashion while I observed his tone of voice. He was proud and maybe a little arrogant of his accomplishment. My son was bragging about his sphincter muscles. How cool is that?

I was very glad that we were alone. I know that others have had similar experiences with their children and bathrooms and I know I have kindred spirits in my absolute love of this story. It cracked me up and made me stop to appreciate the small things in life.

So you have to ask yourself, "How strong is my bum?"