Once Upon a Time … There Were Three Dinosaurs Who Had a Gassing Contest.

Little boys are obsessed with gross bodily functions and their related body part, the “tush,” the “bottom,” the “butt.” 

Our preschool carpool includes four boys—one age 5 and the other three at the tail-end of 4—and they will hysterically laugh for an entire car ride just by repeating the word “butt.”

I will ask them questions, such as “Why is the word ‘butt’ so funny?  Why not ‘toe’?”

I receive little-boy responses, of course.  “It just is,” and “’Toe’ isn’t funny,” as they giggle with each other about how silly I am to question them.

Last night, lying in bed, my son told me the following bedtime story, evidence of his normalcy in the realm of 4-year-old boys.

“Once upon a time, in a land far, far away … more far away … more far away … more, more, more far away…”

He stopped himself, then started over with our traditional introduction to our nighttime stories.

“Once upon a time, in a land far, far away … there were three dinosaurs who had a gassing contest.

“The first dinosaur went … “

And, here he made a dramatic gassing noise, then laughed and laughed.

“The second dinosaur went …” 

Another disgusting gassing sound, followed by giggling.

“The third dinosaur went …”

This time, a different type of noise, the reason soon to be revealed.

“… because he had diarrhea.”

Forgetting his three-dinosaur set-up to the story, he continued, “And, the next dinosaur went …”

Yet a fourth sound of a dinosaur passing gas.

“Then the first dinosaur went …”

Here, he returned to Sound #3.

“…because he had diarrhea too. 

“Then the whole world exploded.

“The end.”

I assumed, in his story, the world had exploded due to gassy and diarrhea-prone dinos, but he immediately asked me, in a serious voice, “Ma, where did the meteor hit the Earth?”  He asked, because he knows from his many dinosaur books that a meteor is one of the theories explaining their extinction.

“I don’t know exactly where, sweetie.”

He continued, “Ma, why is there hot lava?”  This question stemmed from the Lilo & Stitch movie, set in Hawaii, he’d seen right before bed.”

I tried to explain in simple terms.

Then he stated, “I think there’s hot lava because of the meteor.”

“You might be right, sweet love.  We can look it up tomorrow.”

I grew up with four brothers ranging from two to 11 years younger than I am, and I’m now stepmother and mother to three more, ages 15, 13 and 4, so I’m used to the tendencies and antics of boys from birth on.  And, in six months, I will be mother to another son, my fourth, so I will experience another childhood filled with talk and giggles about burps, farts (and, oh, how I HATE that word, which is why I’ve taught my son to use the term “gas”), poop and diarrhea.  And, of course, trains and cars and trucks and dinosaurs and anything Star Wars-related.

But, having no sister and no daughter, this is all I’ve ever known.  And, based on friends who have both daughters and sons, nothing compares to “boy love.” 

I only know “boy love,” but it’s amazing.  On Wednesday, when I arrived at my son’s class to volunteer, unsure of how he’d react because he’s been so independent lately, he immediately directed me to the coat room, to his specific cubby, so I could hang my coat and purse in with his jacket.  Then, he threw his arms around me, hugging me tight.

In my life, I have received lots of “boy love.”  Soon, it will be even more.

And, you know what?  It makes the potty talk tolerable.

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