By Lorry Myers
Lately, I’ve been hanging with a pretty rough crowd, and I have to admit, I like it. As a result, I’m learning things that I’m not sure I need to know, seeing things I’m not sure I need to see. My grandson, who calls me, “Queenie”, is five years old, going on twelve, and lately, this kid seems to know a lot about a lot of things.
Mostly about bodily functions.
Well, actually, not all bodily functions, just a select few. This boy can demonstrate how to belch loudly or softly, internally or externally. Ivan can burp while he jumps, while he stands on his head, and while he hops on one foot. He likes to warn me when a burp is coming because he might want his burp to be timed.
You know, just to see.
But burping is old news; now Ivan is more of a poop or fart guy. He likes to say the word “poop” and thinks it is quite funny to offer it up at random times and in different voices. He talks about fart games and farting toys his mother won’t let him have and, shockingly, can call every fart by name. This he learned by asking Alexa to play farting noises because apparently, she has a sound catalog full of them, each of them aptly named.
Thank you, Alexa.
At first, I was offended and told Ivan so. I gave him my best Miss Manner’s lecture, telling him that some things are personal and should be kept private. Besides, no one wants to see and hear any that. Later, my daughter, the teacher, told me that this sort of stuff was pretty normal for boys Ivan’s age and eventually he would out grow of it.
If we can all live that long.
So, I overlooked the burping and the belching hoping it would go away and when Ivan moved on to poop and farts, I thought I could ignore that, too. In the meantime, this well-informed kindergartner points out farting cartoon characters, and farting scenes in movies because, according to Ivan, it is hysterical!
I’m trying to find the humor.
I’m also trying to remember if I went through this kind of stage as a kid but I couldn’t imagine that at all. Maybe growing up with five brother and sisters, all that farting and burping wasn’t that remarkable. Maybe this truly is a phase and all I have to do is shift my grandson’s attention from the very things that seem to make him laugh the loudest.
What’s a Queenie to do?
For the complete column, see this week’s edition of the Centralia Fireside Guard.
