I've Got Plenty to Be Thankful For

Today I am thankful that I get to spend time with my grandchildren each week. I get to hear first hand the funny things that they say. And they do say a tremendous amount of funny things.

Now I must tell you something about Jonge. When he was twenty months old Famke was born. One of the gifts Famke received upon her birth was in a cute girly gift bag with a fuzzy pink boa handle. Jonge fell in love with that handle. He carried it around and rubbed it under his nose any time he was tired. He called it his 'pink'. It was adorable.

Then one day he dropped it into the bathtub. That was the end of the fuzzy pink boa. Or so everyone thought.

Did you know that you can buy the fuzzy boa stuff at a craft store? I did. So I purchased nine feet of it and cut off sections at a time. As Jonge grew, we went from pink, to black (which left him with a terrible mustache), to bright spring green.

This background information is somewhat pertinent to the rest of the story.

Jonge doesn't have much need for his 'pink' (doesn't matter what color it is, it is still his 'pink') anymore. But earlier this week he found a section of one out on our back porch. One can only guess how long it had been there, but Jonge was feeling sleepy and brought it in the house with him.

He requested that I read him a story while he laid on the bed. So I did. While I read, he began rubbing the pink under his nose. Suddenly he sat up and attempted to thrust it under my nose while saying - Smell this.

I was NOT born yesterday. I don't fall for that line, so I said - No, thank-you.

He said - It smells weird. Smell it.

I said - No. I believe you. It smells weird.

He said - Smell it. It smells like a lamb pooped on it.

A LAMB POOPED ON IT?

Thankfully, I have no experience with what THAT smells like, and I am about as positively sure as one can get that there have been no lambs on my back porch.

So I told him - I don't even know what a clean pink smells like, why would I want to smell a stinky pink?

He responded with - My pink usually smells like Uncle Buddy's house. I LOOOOOOOOOVE the smell of Uncle Buddy and Auntie Christine's house!

Well, the last part of the story is sweet anyway. How cool that he likes the smell of his Aunt and Uncle's house?

And, it's sort of my lot in life to have things laying around my house suddenly begin to smell like lambs pooped on it.

(A lamb pooped on it? WHERE do they get these ideas?)