Driving home from apple picking in MI on Saturday, Fiona said something too quiet to hear, and then busted out laughing.
“What’d you say, darlin’?”
“I smell Billy poop!”
And then she giggled again.
What in the…???
“Billy poop?”
She laughed even louder when I said it.
Then she repeated it, but with some kind of southern twang that comes out of her mouth sometimes, for which we’ve not figured out the origin.
“Bil-EE poo-yoop” followed by more laughter.
“What’s ‘billy poop’?”
“Goat poop.” Chortle, chortle.
“Goat POOP!” she tries again, with slightly bigger emphasis on “poop” in her delivery. And laughs some more…
Awesome!
Correctly combining “poop” with one of the funnier farm animal names, and nailing the delivery.
That’s my baby!
Tip your waitresses, she’s here all week.
Horse poop, cow poop- not as funny.
Chicken poop - too many syllables, really.
Oh, wait, I wasn’t supposed to laugh? This only encourages her???
Huh. Gotta work on that…
Yep, poop became funny to her, all the sudden, in the car on Saturday.
Funny? Hell it’s the most hee-larious word EVER.
And apparently she’s not the only one, as I find out by talking to the mother of a three year old boy while we awaited our kid’s turns on the pony ride yesterday.
She said that “poop” had just made a big splash at her house as well…
Just what ARE they learning at pre-school?
I’m now officially nervous to pick her up from school, fully expecting her teacher to greet me with pursed lips and a slight shake of her head this afternoon, as she hands me a note….
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