Sister is a very prissy girl. You may never come across a little girl more frilly, more poofy or more pink on the face of the planet. She loves dresses, jewels and tea parties. She is always kind to animals and prides herself on carrying her four-year-old self with grace and genteelity. Not only does she look the part of the perfectly prim princess, but she also has the sweet, bell-like voice to compliment the exterior.
However, Sister has recently developed a rather interesting little quirk.
She loves the word "poop".
Now, instead of trying to find ways to work her new favorite word into conversations using the correct context, she just inserts it randomly wherever she sees fit. For instance, when I ask her if she would like turkey or ham on her sandwich, she replies, "Poop and cheese, please," and then dissolves into adorable belly laughs, obviously very proud of her clever take on words.
At first, I reprimanded her, as any mother afraid of being embarrassed in public would do. "Sister, that isn't polite." But my obvious horror and disgust only served to spur her on.
While watching Dora the Explorer, she decided to invent her own dialect of Spanish, changing the words ever so slightly:
"Encada. That means POOP!"
Then she changed the lyrics to one of Dora's songs:
"Eisa turn the poop, turn the poop, Eisa."
So I tried a new strategy. When she used her fun little word, I simply ignored it. I didn't react in the least. And then I had a conversation with her about what we can say when it's just us at home and what we can say in public.
Did it work?
Well, she hasn't screamed it in Wal-Mart yet. But she still likes to throw it around now and then. Last night I tucked her in and turned to leave the room when I heard a soft, sweet voice in the semi, night-light-infused, darkness.
"I love you poopy Mommy." (snicker, snicker)
Well, you have to admit. That was pretty darn cute.