The fecal vernacular upsets and confuses Mrs. McCoy as well. Our son recently headed for the the back of the house where his bathroom/shower is.

"Where are you going honey"?

"I've got to go bury Bin Laden at sea"

[she staers at me with that quizical look that reminds me of the dog staring into the Gramaphone hearing his master's voice for the 1st time]

[lightbulb goes on over Mrs. McCoy's head]

"You told him that didnt you? You are AWFUL"

She then walked away with a HARUMPF that would have done Mel Brooks proud.

I'm still laughing...!

My dad and I had a similarly memorable moment watching '99 Purdue in a NYC bar.

She was 4. When it finally came out it sounded like something from a horror movie in the bathroom. I stayed in the other room scared to death. When it was over she looked at my wife and said: "That's as big as Uncle Greg's arm" and it was. My brother is 6'4" and runs about 290, his arms are large.

My sweet daughter at about age 4 once called my wife and I into the bathroom. "Mom, Dad--you've got to come here! Now!"

We rushed in expecting something had broken or gone wrong; instead she was standing next to the toilet with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised in a knowing manner. "Check it out," she said. "That's a man-sized deuce."

The look on my wife's face was at once priceless and terrible. Perhaps I take pooping too seriously.

Nah.