I have a date with a handsome three year old tonight to go see "Alvin and the Chipmunks". I only hope, as it is with most dates, that we can make it through a movie this time without anyone screaming "Are the CARS on yet??"

It's understandable, since this latest phase involves watching the movie "Cars" in entirety at least every two or three days. 5 minutes here, 30 minutes there. I can practically recite the movie by heart. I'm a dear Owen Wilson fan, and I still can't bear to hear his voice anymore.

Last night on our way home, as Brent was berating me for something or other as usual, I finally snapped a little bit. I think he was complaining because he couldn't reach one of his cars that he had 'accidentally' on purpose thrown on the floor just seconds prior. And it was relentless, as it is some evenings. I'm certain someone is just putting the day care cameras on 'loop', like on tv, and during that time when it looks like the children are napping peacefully, in reality the teachers and constantly tickling their feet with feathers, using chinese water torture, or other various nap warfare. Because I just KNOW that my child is not this ornery through any doing of his own.

So, as the whining was hitting an all time high, I simply looked back at him in the mirror and said "Brent, I cannot reach your car, for the 50TH TIME!". To which I got the normal reply of "YES YES YOU CAN MOMMY!!! Try it!! Try it!!". And I looked back again, smiled, and told him that I couldn't reach it this time, because the car was in... my butt. A strange tactic, to be sure. But potty humor is his new thing these days, and anything with the word "Butt", "Caca" or "Pee Pee" is always met with laughter.

Except this time.

"NO IT'S NOT!!!! It's NOT in your BUTT!!!! It's somewhere else MOMMY. SOMEWHERE ELSE and not YOUR BUTT"

And for anyone that knows me, this doesn't even sound like an out of the ordinary conversation, unfortunately.