Tonawanda News — My husband, a former little boy himself, immediately embraced this trend. Synonyms were introduced: Rear end and caboose, etc. This just made things funnier. I guess. But it stayed clean, and didn’t descend into potty humor — yet — and I had to count my blessings.
Affectionate names grew from this. Sam went from saying things like “Hey, that looks like a cowbutt!” (giggle, snort, giggle) to saying “Hi, Cowbutt!” to his father. Who promptly dubbed him “Moosebutt.” Jim became “Chickenbutt.” I am, at this point, without a butt-related nickname, but I’m sure that will change at some point.
Soon, it even entered into scientific inquiry. “Mom, do jellyfish have butts?”
Yes, I have now Googled the phrase “jellyfish butt.” The results were inconclusive, but apparently they have one, err, orifice for such things as intake, etc. I choose not report on these results, but simply said “No.” He was duly disappointed.
I’m pretty sure that this is all just a part of learning the use of words, and figuring out body parts, and even being part of a group. I daresay butt is a cool and extremely hysteric word to use in kindergarten. And, as far as it goes, it’s harmless.
So I’m rolling with it. Even when I feel baffled, bemused and, yes, somewhat outnumbered, I roll my eyes and remind myself that it could be worse. I have, by and large, well-behaved, happy, polite kids. I can handle a few butt jokes. Right?
A few minutes ago, I complied with a request that Sam made for something on a shelf above his reach. As I handed it to him, he sang out happily “Thank you, Catbutt!” and sailed merrily from the room.
You’re welcome ... Moosebutt.
Jill Keppeler is a writer for the Tonawanda News. She can be reached at email@example.com. Follow her on Twitter @JillKeppeler.