As though I needed another reminder that I have a son, Miles has become obsessed with butts and farts. Whenever he toots, he screams, "Mah butt!" Unfortunately, whenever someone else toots he yells, "Daadaa butt!" or "Mom-mom butt!" or whoever. I can't help but snicker (because I am apparently twelve years old), and so Miles thinks it's funny (it totally is) and keeps it up. He also has started grabbing his hiney in the bathtub and saying "Butt, Mom-mom! Mah butt!" The child is completely obsessed.
So, it should come as no surprise that his boyishness has spilled over into our Christmas celebrations.
Yesterday, as we were unpacking the Nativity set, I was telling Miles the Christmas story. As I reached each part of the story, I would put the corresponding figure in the stable. "This is Mary. She is Jesus' Mommy. She and Joseph traveled a long way and when they got where they were going, there was no room at the inn, so they had to sleep in a stable." And Miles grabbed Mary and Joseph and said, "Mom-mom. Dada." and put them in the house. We went through all of the animals, and I put the manger in, and then it was time for the Baby Jesus. I explained how Jesus was born in a stable, and laid in the manger, and handed the figure to Miles. Miles took it reverently, and whispered, "Bay-be". He turned it over in his hands, oh so gently, then grinned and said, "Butt! Bay-be butt!"
Sure enough, Baby Jesus had bare behind.
There are some aspects of motherhood that nothing could have prepared me for. Talking about the rear end of our Holy Lord is definitely one of them.
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