The Cody Kimmel School of Humor

Those weeks where I’m feeling lousy and it’s hard to get in the mood to write a humorous blog post, I have a fall back derived from the Cody Kimmel school of humor: talk about poop. This probably explains why I’ve blogged about pooping a couple of times before, for example here.

Cody thinks that poop is the funniest thing in the freaking world. Nothing, I mean nothing, makes a car ride more entertaining than a discussion of bodily functions. Try running errands with this going on in the back seat at about a thousand decibels:

Cody: Poop! HAHAHAHAHA

Chiara: Cody said poop! HAHAHAHA

Cody: Pee-pee! HAHAHAHA

Chiara: Cody said pee pee! HAHAHAHAHA

We could drive to Chicago and the discourse would never stray far.

As much as Cody loves talking about going to the bathroom, he doesn’t seem too interested in the act itself. Cody averages one accident per day, and has days with as many as three accidents. We tell him, every single time, to plan ahead. We beg him to go before we leave the house. But no, I don’t have to go! I don’t have to go! Oops I had an accident!

Chiara: Cody peed on the floor! HAHAHAHAHA

This trend has changed only recently now that Cody has discovered the wonders of peeing standing up. This makes the act much more entertaining. Of course, there are a few basics to master which Cody is still working on. Most important: Aim. Accidents used to be confined to underwear and pants. Now, no item below about four feet – be it wall, wastebasket, towel, rug, or small animal, is safe.

The reason Cody really likes the new urination style is that what Cody really, really likes to do is touch himself. I mean, it’s getting really embarrassing. Cody is absolutely fascinated with his privates, and what they can be manipulated to do. It’s all the better when he has an audience with his sister who howls and cackles and encourages him to be a total exhibitionist. This, of course, embarrasses and enrages his mother and me. I know we are probably stunting his development, causing him negative feelings about his body and his sexuality. But, I do not give a rip: Get your hands off your junk.

Speaking of messages, we have friends who refer to their children’s anatomy by the proper medical names, even directly with the children at a very young age. We do no such thing in our household. Cody has determined that everything below the belt, back and front, male and female, is called “butt.” We are too prude to correct him – that would just mean more uncomfortable conversations best left to his friends in middle school.

I am not a puritan. I generally feel people should be able to do whatever they want in their bedrooms so long as there is consent. I do not, however, extend this philosophy to my children. At 5 and 3, my feeling is they should be asexual angels. But apparently it is beyond my control. Apparently, I’m raising an auto-erotic scatologist male stripper instead.

Chiara: Daddy said scatologist! HAHAHAHAHA