This weekend my sister and nephew are visiting. (Yay!!) Luke is 3 1/2 years old–that fantastic preschool age of discovery and exploration. Of figuring out how his little existence fits in with the world. Of skipping and running and jumping over every line and crack in the sidewalk. Of pushing limits and boundaries to see just where they are.
3 1/2 years old. That age where all bodily functions are amazing. And interesting. And funny. And public.
Last night during dinner we played the “favorite” game. Each person takes a turn coming up with a topic and everyone at the table shares their favorite in that category. For round one, I named the category Animals. A good challenge because it can be tricky to name just one. We had cat, dog, shark, dolphin, and whale. Nothing too crazy. Some good conversation regarding the difference in naming a favorite that could be a pet versus an animal that you just might find incredibly intriguing. Next my thirteen year old chose Color for his category. Around the table we went, everyone choosing a color or two. Nice. Next up, the preschooler.
Luke confidently named his category. “What’s your favorite in the bathroom?” A little confusion regarding how to reply. My twelve year old daughter was first to answer. Nervous giggle. She seemed unsure. Was she supposed to say something along the lines of toothbrush? shower? shampoo? Surely she wasn’t really supposed to talk about her “business,” right?! But we all knew exactly what Luke meant. The-three-year-old-who-is-obsessed-with-all-things-bathroom–especially with the old number two. He wanted to know what we liked to do most … pee or poo? Tinkle or plop? Take a wiz or drop a deuce?
So, around the table we went.
“Um, I prefer to pee.” Giggle. Next. “Me too, pee.” Next. A silly and somewhat lengthy explanation that ultimately ended with “pee.” I agreed with the rest. “Pee.” Thirteen year old’s turn. “Uh, this is awkward. But, ok. Pee.” Back to Luke. “Poop.” Smile. I’m not sure if he really prefers to poop or if he was just happy to be talking about it. Because what three year old little boy doesn’t want to talk about poop?! At the dinner table. With lots of family around.