The second installment showcasing the scatological humor of my daughter V:

1. Setup: V and I are sitting comfortably on a chair.  She stands up on my lap, turns around, and breaks wind.


(V): “Ha, ha. I just farted at you.”

[Dad looks horrified, wonders where she’s learning this stuff]

(V): “Should I touch your armpit?”

[Dad raises his arm to accommodate her curiosity]

(V): “It stinks!” [V pushes dad’s arm back down]


Get your minds outta the gutter.

2. Setup: The family is walking into Target to do some “shoppin’.”


(V): “Those are daddy’s big red balls!” [Pointing at the large vermilion cement spheres outside the entrance].

[Dad wonders how he became associated with these majestic baubles]




3. The Setup: we’ve discussed going to a family wedding soon, and V is excited to go to “the wedding party” and to wear her pretty dress.


(V): “Daddy, you should wear a big dress to the wedding with a design on it.”

(Me): “Really? What should the dress have on it?” [Gives V several examples of “designs”]

(V): “Dogs!”

(Me): “Ok, I’ll see what I can do.”


4. The Setup: V likes Star Wars. She watches the occasional show and reads several books about them.  One day, we’re all sitting in her playroom, doing something completely unrelated to that Sci-Fi franchise. 


(V): “Sand People ride Banthas!”

(Me): [Beaming proudly] “Yes, yes they do honey.”