TMI

I have a child who loves to talk. He is 4 years old. He loves to talk. He can talk and talk and talk ....you get the idea. He will talk about the sky. He will talk about bugs. He will talk about the dust on his dresser. This kid can really fill dead air like no other. He has the gift of gab...as my grandma calls it.

He talks so much that no-one wants to share a room with him because the talking comes out more at night. It is then that the questions come out.

"Mom, why do we have a chin?"
"Why do we need socks?"
"Why do we wear underwear?"
"Why do we need the sun?"

Not necesarily hard questions to answer, but it is bedtime and if it isn't me he is asking, it is his tired older brother. It is actually quite endearing.

He also will tell you a lot more than you need to know, than you want to know.  TMI is his middle name. I think that the filter in his brain is not yet fully developed....you know, the one that reminds you what is appropriate and what is inappropriate to say out loud.

With that introduction, let me tell you about a little conversation that took place this weekend with Camden (talking son) and my brother-in-law (we will call him Bob...because that is his reall name.)

Camden enters the room where Bob and other cousins are playing.

Bob: "Hey Camden! What are you doing?"

Camden: "I just went pee." Slight pause."And poop." Long pause. "I went pee and poop."

Bob: (laughing) "Thanks for sharing."

Camden: After thinking for a few second, (a little disgusted) "I didn't share it with anyone."

That's my boy!