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The Boy Who Cried ‘Poo’

August 5, 2009

We live in a house now – a wonderful and independent dwelling where no one can hear our son scream as we “gently train” him to sleep without a breast milk intravenous. It is also a place where we will die of sleep deprivation. The alternative was to die in a basement at the hands of a sleep deprived German McDonald’s employee. We try to count our blessings.

James woke up this morning at 3 am. He times his wakings for the middle of my sleep cycle, when he knows my resolve is completely deflated. I fell out of bed and into his room and he was all, “Hey Mum, I thought we might spend a couple of hours together. You know, just you and me. Awake.” And then I was all, “Husband! Your son would like a word with you.”

So I went back to bed and overheard this interaction:

BEDROOM:

J.D.: Go to sleep.
James: RAAAAARGHAAH!
J.D.: Seriously. Lie down.
James: REEEEEEERARGUWAHHHHHH!
J.D.: What would you like?
James: Mama.
J.D.: What’s your second choice?
James: Poo.
J.D.: You have to poo?
James: Poo.

BATHROOM:

J.D: I thought you said you have to poo.
James: Done.
J.D.: You can’t be done something you didn’t even start.
James: Done.

BEDROOM:

J.D.: Go to sleep.
James: Poo.
J.D.: You have to poo? For real this time?
James: Poo.

BATHROOM:

James: Done.

BEDROOM:

J.D.: Go to sleep.
James: Poo.

BATHROOM:

James: Done.

ETCETERA ETCETERA ETCETERA.

Now the difference between our story and the original is that in the original the boy eventually pays for his lies and gets eaten by a wolf. In our story, the parents will eventually be cleaning up poo in the middle of the night, and the boy will laugh in their faces.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. August 5, 2009 4:30 pm

    Oh my.
    I read that and laughed so hard that my husband felt he needed to come check on me. Then I read it again and laughed again.

    It was so funny, in fact, that it apparently cured my commenting-phobia.

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