I bought myself a new shower poof at Wal-Mart last night. And, I bought one for Noah, too. She liked using mine, and she also likes to take her own shower now.

Actually, her idea of showering involves sitting under the stream of water playing with her toys. Whatever works, right? She's getting somewhat clean. After all, it is winter. It's not like she's digging in the dirt as she does in the summer months.

Anyway, back to the point of the story. Noah had a hard time saying, "poof." It kept coming out more like, "poop."

"You got me a pink poop, Momma?"

"I like my poop."

"I threw my poop in the shower, Momma!"

My husband and I have been giggling all evening as she anticipated bath time.

"Where's your new poof, Noah?" I asked her just before bathtime.

"It's in the bafroom, Momma!" (Apparently, she has no problems making the "f" sound.")

So, once in the bathtub, things went like this...

"Tucker's chewing on my poop, Daddy."

"Put some soap on my poop."

I think you get the idea. I suppose this all seems silly. Two adults giggling over poop jokes. That's so fifth grade, right?

But to watch the word come out of her mouth time and time again, well, I bet you couldn't hold back a chuckle, either!


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