I almost forgot how naive, uninhibited, raw and well, childish, the humor of a five year old can be. Lately we've been faced with a bathroom-talk epidemic in the Purple Room.
The boys of the class have recently discovered the phenomenon that is making fart noises with the convenient pairing of a hand and an armpit. They also discovered it doesn't have to be your own armpit to make this magical music. I anticipate this habit will end shortly after the first boy develops odorous sweat glands, but I have faith and hope that it will end sooner.
Nothing is funnier than when someone passes gas during meeting.
"I don't know why you're laughing, this happens to everyone. Please put bubbles in your mouth and continue listening to the story," I say.
They look at me as if I'm nuts. Maybe I am. I have to suppress my giggles too.
Two students were laughing to themselves in Dramatic Play. "What's going on over here?" I ask.
"Nothing." Followed by more giggles.
Dennis (the Menace):My brudder said naked.
Lil Genius: Yeah and I know what it means.
They continue to repeat the N(aked) word back and forth until I decide this is a battle I'd rather just walk away from.
Yesterday we were on the carpet playing Build-a-Person, the politically correct and therefore preschool friendly version of Hang Man, when a student guessed the first letter to the Builder's four-letter word. "P." There were two. For the love of God no one guess an O.
One of my students decided it was acceptable to pull his pants down mid-tag to urinate. On the sidewalk. Next to the slide. He proceeded to pull his pants down and continue running from whoever was "It." Not okay.
Whenever a student feels the urge to use "bathroom talk" I ask them to go into the bathroom. Bathroom talk is for the bathroom, please only those words there. However, sometimes they simply can't bear to wait for the bathroom. Walking back from the pool today I asked two misbehaving students to stop their "not nice words" and separate. The boy whose hand I took looked straight at me with a sly grin. "Butt. Butt Butt Fart. Poop!" There was nothing I could do; the words were said, and there was no bathroom for me to send him to between the pool and the CYC. Boy, did he have a S-word grin on that face!
Stupid is the S word for five year olds, in case you were wondering. Except for Mr. Know-it-all... he'll correct any tattle-taler when they complain someone called them the "S word." I constantly have to make some obviously loud clamor to protect the innocent ears of his peers... Sometimes I question honest parenting.
Who am I kidding? Bathroom humor isn't limited to five and six year olds. It's still damn funny otherwise I wouldn't be blogging about it.