Parenting is far from glamorous, as any parent will tell you. And one of the less glamorous parts of parenting occurs when your child or children discover toilet humour, and it takes over every single conversation they have. Case in point: The other day, my eight-year-old spent a full half-hour asking my three-year-old, “Who farted?” just to delight in hearing her reply, “Me!” (No one had farted. I don’t think the three-year-old even realises what a fart is. But the eight-year-old had stumbled upon a gold mine of giggles, and he wasn’t about to give it up.)
Then there’s the car ride home from school pickup, where the eight-year-old loves to roll down the window and announce, “I farted!” And then he laughs and laughs and laughs…
And the poop jokes, and the bum jokes, and the wee jokes… All the jokes, all the time, are about toilety things. I’m reminded of an old Jeff Foxworthy sketch, “You know you’re a redneck…”: “You know you’re a redneck when… Your mama says, ‘Y’all come in here and look at this before I flush it!'” Yep, that’s what it’s like in my house lately.
Master Eight’s godmother is coming to visit in a few weeks, and asked what she could bring him as a gift. “Well, he’s into jokes right now,” I replied, neglecting to mention that his main interest is toilet humour. “I love Roald Dahl, and I hope he does, too!” she messaged the next day, with a pic of Roald Dahl’s Whizpopping Joke Book.
Does Roald Dahl do poo jokes? I guess I’ll find out in a few weeks…
Katherine Granich
