WARNING: Proceed with caution.
This is one of those stories that probably shouldn't be recorded in writing, but I can't help wanting to save it to share it with our son's girlfriend or significant other someday...
Last week, as we played in my Mom and Dad's backyard, we suddenly heard the sweet little voice of a neighbor child. A tiny blonde girl appeared at their fence, and smiled at Charlie. He grabbed the fence and smiled back at her.
"What's your name?" she asked him with a giggle.
Charlie took a moment to formulate his response, and then, with a mischievous grin spread across his face, he answered,
Ummm...excuse me? Did my son just refer to himself as some sort of fowl excrement?? Did he really just say that out loud?
Yup. With pride, I might add.
And then there was silence again. We chuckled under our breath, even though we were slightly appalled. He is such a boy.
Thankfully, this little girl had been listening to us for a while in the yard. "No...your name is Charlie!" she quickly corrected him.
But what, one might ask, would even prompt our son to choose "Duck poo?" And sadly, there is an answer. Or at least a clue...
A couple of weeks ago, our front walkway was the unfortunate target of animal droppings...you guessed it...duck poop. Or supposed duck poop, anyway. We never actually saw it happen, but whatever the case, a duck took the blame for the crime scene.
Well, it was obviously there too long, because Charlie became all-too-accustomed to me saying, "Don't step in the duck poop, Charlie!" or "Watch out for that duck poop, kids!" and it was long enough for our son to decide that those two words had a nice ring to them.
And thus he coined himself "Duck Poo."
Actually, that's his nickname. The full version he'll give you is "Doc Doc (short for "doctor") Char Char (short for Charlie) Duck Poo Murphy."
The next time you see us, please don't "fuel the fire" so to speak...