And by that I mean, he's been speaking in commercials.
I've never wished more that he just stuck to the poop jokes.
Let me explain:
The other day, we were getting the mail. We were all disappointed to see there was nothing but a flier and some junk mail awaiting us. (That Prince from South American PROMISED my check would be here by now!) As I do, I handed the mail to each of the boys. T9 got the flier and proceeded to hug it (whatever), and Plus One eyeballed the envelope I'd placed in his hands.
"THIS?! [Scoff.] This is just from GEICO, MOM."
Dude is barely five. CANNOT READ. And yet, he recognized "Geico" stamped in the upper left-hand corner of the motherloving envelope.
|Haters gonna hate.|
I SWEAR HE HARDLY WATCHES TV.
Another incident involved me and the broom. (SEE?! I CLEAN!) I was
I'm pretty sure he didn't hear me say, "The fuck...?"
The final straw was when we were upstairs fetching some of his laundry from the dryer. He was again paying attention to his surroundings (take a REST already, kid) and somehow spotted the OxiClean logo on a bottle of laundry detergent.
Plus One: Hey! That's OxiClean! It gets the stains out!
Plus One: Did you have a stain, Mom?
Plus One: MOM. THE OXI CLEAN.
PS: I'm over at Studio 30+ today as well. I have a post about a wonderful recipe for Chicken & Dumplings. With a side of salmonella. And divorce served for dessert. IT'S DELICIOUS.
PPS: This coming Thursday, I'll be attending a Duran Duran concert with none other than Miss Yvonne of Yo Mama's Blog. I'm telling you in advance so you can prepare for the sonic boom that sounds when our minds collide. (Or, so you know who to look for when my body is discovered in the woods.)