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Potty humor never dies
February 5th, 2009
Before the power went out last week I spent hours cleaning out forgotten drawers at my Ma’s house. There I uncovered this little gem written by my Ma when she was about eleven. The handwriting is perfect, if faded, the paper is yellow and brittle, but the punchlines are still intact.
My Mother
Who when my prayers were poorly said
would tuck me in my little bed
and spank my butt till it was red?
My mother.
Who when the morning light had come,
and in my bed I’d turded some,
would gently wipe my little bum?
My mother.
Who would my hair neatly part,
and gently press me to her heart,
and squeeze me till I sometimes fart?
My mother.
Who took me from my warm, warm cot,
and put me on my cold, cold pot,
and made me pee would I or not?
My mother.
Who looked at me with eye-brows knit,
when in my drawers I had shit
and said to me, “Up and git!”?
My mother.
5 Responses to “Potty humor never dies”
I laughed until I nearly crapped my pants (not really), but I thought the potty humor should continue. P.S. – I can’t wait for The Son to learn the word fart since his mom likes it so well.
I wonder what the reason was she copied down that poem. That is so funny. I also haven’t ever heard it with the turded some line. That is a funny line.
So help me if you teach the son the word fart I will….I will….I will do something really bad.
I won’t have to. He’s a boy. Even if he never goes to public school (or private school), he will eventually hear the word on a playground…in a movie…at church…wherever. It will happen
Yes…as a mother of two sons, I can GUARANTEE that TheSon is NOT going to say, “Oops, someone breezed.” as HeyYou hopes he will do. There’s just something about the musical sound of the word Frt rolling off the tongue that makes it hilariously funny to the speaker of the forbidden gem. Since it’s not technically a curse word, the speaker is not guilty of that sin but at the same time feels as if he/she has gotten away with cursing.
Oh…the days of little boys and potty humor. Blazing Saddles, I laughed til I cried while I tried to hide it all from my boyfriend (Now my husband). That is, until I heard him take a big gulping lungful of air and realized he was laughing too. (Of course, this was 1976 and the rules of the knowledge of someone actually frting much saying they had frted were so much more strict than now.)
Good luck with that substitute, breeze, HeyYou. (I promise that our Huckablog country rules do NOT include the use of the frt word.)