A Wild Acre: Thatch Attack

In lieu of current economic and political unrest, I thought we could all use a smile. But be warned:

This post is rated PG as some of it's contents may not be appropriate for young eyes. To those who dare, however, read on.

I had a friend recently tell me that if I decided to go back to six kids, she's got dibbs on Thatch. Now mind you all my kids are great in my eyes....Zev's edible and I can't seem to stop kissing Harmony. Cherish is my right hand woman...choppin', slicin' and dicin' with the best of 'em. And my three older men, well, they're just that, young men in making. I love watching them all grow and mature....but my sap is getting away with me and I'm diverting from my story. Where was I? Ah, yes, Thatch. Beloved by all who know him. He's unique..funny...chubby...cute. With his growly, low, yet high pitched voice, he keeps us laughing continually. Just last night I was sharing with John some of the newest Thatchisms. Here's how it went....

Thatch informs me that he needs to go potty. Well actually he says he needs to poo poo, because he reserves the word potty for urinating. So I take him and since we were at the house of a friend, I stayed in there for the much dreaded wipe. (Though I have done this act a bazillion times, I never cease to loathe it. ~sigh~) I politely turn away to face the mirror to offer him what little privacy I could when from him emerges a series of sputtering sounds as his bowels move.

He says, “Mom, did you hear that motorcycle noise?”

Suppressing my laughter hear renders me speechless, again, “Did you hear that motorcycle noise?”

“Yes, honey, I did.”

“I make that motorcycle noise when I go (he had to pause here for the effort involved in the task at hand), when I go pooo-poooooo. (again more effort)”

So as John and I are cracking up over yet another story from this hilarious three year old, I say, “Oh the quotes of Thatch.” To which John shares another Thatchism. “Saaaadie! Don't eat my p-n-s!” What? Your kids don't pee outside? C'mon.