buttercup

When the kids were younger, we used to joke about the differences between boys and girls. Well, not so much the differences, but we saw an attribute in our boys that we never saw in Maddy. I tend to be a nurture guy, not a nature guy, but early on, if you ever wanted to make the boys laugh, all you had to do was say, in any order, volume, or situation:

POO BUTT FART.

The boys would collapse in paroxysms of laughter. In church, at home, at school, in the mall, wherever.

You could whisper it–“poo butt fart.” HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA.

And Maddy would just stomp her foot in disgust and say “Boys are SO stupid.” And the boys would run screaming through the house: “POO BUTT FART!”

Well the worm has turned my friends. Nurture is making a comeback.

The other day Maddy said to me, she says, “Dad, you know what a buttercup is?”

“Of course I do.” Duh.

“Well, what’s the point of putting your hand by your butt, farting, and then opening your hand in someone’s face? Seems to me, it’s much more effective to just put your butt in someone’s face and fart. That’s what I did to my friend at school today.”

That’s my Maddy. Never bring a knife to a gun fight.