and that about sums it up

conversation i just had with the e-man:

e: "mommy, my butt hurts. will you put your finga in it?"

me, sighing heavily: "what do you mean 'put my finger in it?'"

e: "it itches. stick your finga in my butt and scatch it."

me: "wait. i thought you said it hurts. now it itches? make up your mind dude."

e: "mommy, i wuv you so much. you my cold tamale."

side note: i always say to him, "come here you little hot tamale." to which he replies, "i not your hot tamale. you my cold tamale."

that's our little thing. cute, isn't it?

so then he forgets about his butt ailment and says, "mommy, where you work?"

i thought for a minute and said, "well, i work here...at home...and i'm a writer. mommy wrote a book. did you know that?"

and then he farted.

and not like a cute little baby fart that makes you go, "aawww, what a cute little stinky baby fart," but an "OH MY GOD, WHAT DID YOU EAT?" fart.

and then he ran out of the room squealing and screaming, "I FAWTED! I FAWTED ON MOMMY!"