Adding a lonely poop to the butt credit

“Hiyan!”

I hear a weak, breathless scream that barely sounds like a voice. They did it again.

“Butt credit!!!”

His right hand, sharpened straight and keen like a blade, is aimed at his husband's butt crack.

He slides his right hand toward that crack as if swiping a credit card through a terminal. Yes, that is the butt credit.

The men in our house are lovers of crude jokes. They stimulate each other and work diligently to hone their skills.

No matter how much cold glares or bashing they receive from the female team, their bond remains unshaken.

For my husband and son, crude jokes might be like diamonds. They are shiny, valuable, and they want to polish them every time they find one.

Or so I assume.

As a side effect, my youngest (in his bed-wetting phase, at the age where he wants to imitate everything) is also overjoyed by crude jokes.

One day, while coming home from kindergarten, there was a poop on the ground. My older child noticed it but pretended not to, as it was just lying there. Perhaps thinking he was ignored even though he noticed it,

“Mommy.”

When he called me that, my youngest grabbed my hand tightly and looked at me with teary eyes.

“Poop is lonely, isn't it...”

“Eh!?”

With me looking on in complete surprise, my youngest burst into laughter. This kid even incorporated a lonely act into his routine. He's the youngest, but he's terrifyingly precocious...

This is no time to be saying things like that.

From that day on, my youngest started leaving a comment for every poop he found on the ground.

Sometimes,

"Poop is surprising, isn't it..."

And other times,

"Poop is all alone, isn't it..."

Stop, please, just stop...!
We're on our way to or from school, so I'm worried about what people around us think. It's embarrassing, but please stop throwing in things that make me laugh out loud.

Oh, I forgot to write something important. I'm not the one doing the butt credits at the beginning. It's my son doing it to my husband.

And then, my son bursts into laughter at my husband saying "Hiyan," and runs away. That's our daily life.

But, I kind of understand it too... My husband's butt is charming. It's not a feminine, bouncy butt. But when you touch it, it has an indescribable, amazing feel, like slime or a low-rebound cushion.

Am I also a member of the "love dirty jokes" tribe, typing this while using my right hand to mimic cupping his butt to remember that feeling? Could this be a full-fledged member...!? How embarrassing, how embarrassing.

This is all my husband's butt's fault. It's a felony. The name of the crime... I'll have my youngest son name it. I'm sure he'll come up with an exquisite name. One I couldn't think of. Probably involving the poop he's been into lately.

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