It’s Not All Mary Poppins

Out of the Mouths of Toddlers

This is what passes for chit-chat around here…

“Anna, Anna, you’re not listening to me. I climbed the rainbow!”
“I climbed the rainbow and I tumbled down and I cried.”
“I’m a boy.” [Timmy said that. He’d be right.]
“I’m a girl. Sometimes I be Charlie when I’m a boy, and sometimes I be Lola. And sometimes you be Charlie.”
“And sometimes I be in a river and I go underwater.”
“And sometimes you pop up.”
“I went to a circus-festival, and it had happy carrots in it, with controls and I didn’t like it. I just liked the carrot ones.”
(The above was all one conversation, diligently transcribed verbatim. There were no pauses when the conversation did a 180 into sur-reality, just one steady stream of chatter.)

While eating lunch:
“I’m a cucumber baby.”
“I’m a mummy.”
“Awww, my baaybeee. Mwah!”
“Baby, be careful on the swing! Be careful on the swing, says mummy!”
“Look, I’m a half-moon!”
(Guess what our vegetable was?)

“Ha! You have a stinky-bum. You’re stinky!”
“I’m not stinky!”
“But your bum is stinky.”
“I’m not stinky.”
“I smell your bum.”
“I have a poop in me, and it will come out soon.”
“I needa go pee.”
“I need to go, too.”

Which, of course, leads to a conversation about undergarments.
“I have unnerwears.”
“No, you have panties.”
“I have unnerwears and that is panties, too.”
“I have tighty-whiteys.”
“And tighty-whiteys is unnerwear for boys.”

And, staring into the potty, after their mission is accomplished:
“Look! You made a rainbow!”
(Who couldn’t check, after that? No disgusting myriad of colour, thank heavens, just a tidy, reeking curve. But of course! Anyone who sees an arc of sh poo immediately thinks of the beauteous wash of glowing colour that is ‘rainbow’…)

“Glory to the newborn king. Born the new king at the whole world. AH-men!”
“Helpful your newborn king is very better and flatter.”


September 17, 2008 - Posted by | random and odd, the things they say! | ,


  1. I’m 32 years old, and yet, anytime I see poo, I’m now going to think “Look! You/I made a rainbow!”

    The resulting giggling will ensure my husband has me committed I’m sure 😛

    The chatter at your house is very interesting!

    The chatter at my house is one of the great perks of the job! If your husband reads the post, you and he can giggle together, maybe? And then be committed together, into your very own his’n’her padded cell… Maybe not.

    Comment by rambleicious | September 17, 2008 | Reply

  2. Sometimes I be Lola. Who doesn’t?

    I’ve known a Lola. She was a beautiful woman — and a total space cadet. And then there’s that old song, “Her name was Lola. She was a showgirl.” Both of them beautiful, both of them a bit… unstable…

    Comment by Bridgett | September 17, 2008 | Reply

  3. My memory is so bad that I can never catch the conversations like that. My son doesn’t need a conversation partner- he does it all. I need some way to simply press so I can transcribe his silliness.

    It’s not memory! (Anyone who knows me would be falling over laughing at the thought that I could remember great swatches of conversation.) They were here and there throughout the living room, kitchen, and dining room, and I was on the couch with my laptop, transcribing in Real Time, fast as I could type!

    Comment by Jill in Atlanta | September 17, 2008 | Reply

  4. Lola evokes smoky bars and femme fatals… what has Timmy been watching?

    So you’d think, but in fact Charlie and Lola is a series of children’s books — written by a woman with a sense of humour, I’d say. (No, I’ve not yet read one. They’re on my (very long) to-read list.

    Comment by Suzi | September 18, 2008 | Reply

  5. hahaha! Love it! tighty whiteys!

    Yeah, that made me laugh, too. He says it so straight, too — as far as he’s concerned, that’s just what they’re called. Nothing amusing about that! (snort)

    Comment by Alicia | September 18, 2008 | Reply

  6. I just read this to my husband because it’s been on my mind and it’s hilarious!

    Comment by Alicia | September 25, 2008 | Reply

  7. […] filled with urine, in which floats an arc-shaped sausage of shit and declare that they’ve produced a “rainbow”. Comfortable? No worries there! They’ve got that whole “comfort” thing nailed. […]

    Pingback by A perfectly sh*tty gift. Or is that p*ssy? « It’s Not All Mary Poppins | November 21, 2008 | Reply

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