Kids do say the darndest things, and I just have to share what happened the other day. It all started when my three-year-old granddaughter rushed past declaring, “Grandma, I have to go potty.”
Of course that means a mad dash to the bathroom, unbuttoning that dreaded button on those adorable little jeans as we run. We arrive and I plopped her on the toilet. All goes well until her little face scrunches up.
“What’s wrong?” I asked from where I was instructed to sit on the edge of the bathtub until she’s finished.
She leans forward. “I get so frustrated when that happens.”
“Frustrated when what happens?” I asked, taking a second look at the discarded jeans to see if we didn’t completely make it in time and wondering once again about the words this kid uses on a regular basis.
“When air comes out my butt,” she whispered.
Holding in the chuckle tickling my throat, I clarified, “When air comes out your butt?”
“Yes,” she answered, completely serious.
I covered my giggle with a small cough. Having raised three boys, where farting was the most amazing and funny thing they could do, I was quite surprised by this significant difference between boys and girls at such a young age. I leaned closer and explained, "That’s called a fart.”
“A fart?” she asked, wide-eyed with astonishment.
“Yes, a fart.”
She pressed her tiny hand to her forehead as if the world had just run out of John Deere fruit snacks. (Which she calls Papa Jessie snacks and absolutely cannot live without a full box in the cupboard.)
Hoping to calm her fears, I pointed to my neck and continued, “And you know when air comes out of your throat and makes a funny noise?”
After a moment of brief thoughtfulness she nodded.
“That’s called a burp,” I said.
“A burp?” Again she was shocked.
“Farting and burping!” She covered her little face with both hands and shaking her head, groaned, “Oh, Grandma.”
Once again, I must proclaim, grandchildren are truly gifts from God.
Every day, in every way, life just keeps getting better and better.