Eli Gabriel John Nathan Seth

May 19, 2009 at 4:52 am

Mommy’s F Word

I am often shocked at the behavior of boys. Things like how bodily functions are absolutely hysterical to them and provide hours upon hours of what I deem crude fodder. I just don’t get it. But I am often reminded by my husband with the inevitable chiding of “boys will be boys”. Despite my best efforts.

I grew up in a house where we didn’t discuss such things around the dining room table. In fact, looking back, there were quite a few things that were not appropriate in the eyes of the powers that be. There were the standards of no elbows on the table, don’t chew with your mouth open, etc, etc. Then there were ones unique to our family, I do believe. My sister was the culprit behind the no yodeling rule. Eventually it branched out to a ban on all musical performances. My brother was the driving force behind the no beat-boxing with ones mouth while trying to chew food. Then there was the infamous fish stick incident, which to this day my sister and I will both still swear that up until that moment we were allowed to eat fish sticks with our fingers and then one evening in an instant it was forbidden. Not only that, we were told it had been forbidden forever. We were told that despite our recollections to the contrary we had never been allowed to eat fish sticks with our hands. The strangest part of the entire encounter is that our brother agreed with the adults. Still confuses her and I.

Never was there discussions of bathroom humor. The occasional belch of my sister, who at the age of 5 invoked the stares of grown men in Wendy’s, followed by her oh so polite little blond pig-tailed excuse me. But that was as far as it ever went. In contrast I am constantly repeating the phrase “poop is not funny”, to which they snicker and reply to each other in hushed whispers “yes it is”. They were so very excited when we watched the movie RV for family night awhile back. My then three year old Gabriel turned around with his not so great speaking abilities at the time and yelled “look Mom, poop IS funny” as Robin Williams was showered with it.

I just don’t wish to discuss these functions all day every day. The five men I live with beg to differ. They laugh and giggle at various sounds and scents, shall we say. As anyone will who visits will tell you, there are two four letter words in my household that start with “F”. You are not to use the word fart. I find it crude. We never were allowed to utter it growing up. And something about my four year old niece passing gas and turning around in her glitter rainbow t-shirt wearing glory, smiling as she announces to all of the surrounding mall walkers that she farted totally made the decision for me. Luckily after the same said incident, hubby agreed to the self-enforced ban as well. Which is good, because if he wasn’t on board it would have been downhill from there.

So the no f word policy is still enforced. Every once in awhile it comes flying out of Seth’s nine year old mouth in a way that reveals his regular use of such word with his schoolyard buddies. But I love that he is trying so hard to respect me, and almost visibly tries to yank the slick slimy sucker of a word back through his lips and suck it down inside.

Alas, the constant reference to the term led to a need for a more mommy accepted terminology. Because “I gassed” was just not cutting it (veiled reference at unfinished pun intended here). The lovely uniquely Desrochers term was coined by none other than Gabriel a little over a year ago. So descriptive in nature, but private in intention. Now you know what it is my boys are discussing when they talk about a Popper Butter.


  1. First of all, Poop is funny. It will always be funny. I have a child who calls me in to took at “the mom and baby poop”. It is funny.
    We call farts “air poop” in our house. Abby started it before she was two and it has stuck. But I think i would rather Jake said fart than air poop.

  2. What is even better is when they call each other “fart face” or “fart head” or “poopie face” … sigh … LOL … and to break them of the habit.

    So …

    I just wanted to let you know that I awarded you something in my blog!
    Check it out!

  3. that was soooo funny! We werent allowed to say fart either.we had to say fluff,but popper butter is much funnier:)sorry,lol. My son has been calling everyone a ‘bumhole’ for a week now.also told me ‘move your giant butt mum’

  4. I always found fart to just sound disgusting. I still say toot or tooted.

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