In which I would like to crawl under a rock and hide

What am I going to do with Landis? His "potty-humor" -- which I'm not sure is an appropriate title for it, since it also consists of body parts and bodily functions -- is totally out of control. I understand that because he's 4 it's age appropriate, or perhaps I should say that I understand it's developmentally appropriate for him to be constantly talking about poopy and butts and weenuses. It's just that he looks like he's 6, so the general public thinks he should have a little more sense about him -- and frankly, so do I. Not that I don't expect it to some degree. I do. He is, after all, my second child. My second boy. I knew what was coming down the pike. It's just that he seems to have a knack for busting out with it at the most hideously inappropriate times.

These days, the thing that he thinks is the most hilarious in all the world is his butt-crack. (Butt-crack!! Butt-crack!! Butt-crack!!!!) He uses any opportunity he can to work it into a conversation. For example, the conversation we had at the lake the other day went like this:
"Mom, can you fix the strap on my life jacket?"
"Which one?"
"The one that's in my BUTT-CRACK!!"
Which, to be fair, maybe isn't the best example. He did actually use that term appropriately since, after all, the strap he wanted me to adjust WAS well up into his butt-crack. But let's take, for instance, that time when he worked it into a conversation with a little girl in the child-watch. Apparently, as they were eating their snack together at the table, he turned casually to face her, batted his big blue eyes in her direction, and waving his banana around in the air, announced loudly to this innocent and unsuspecting child that he was going to stick it in his BUTT-CRACK!! And then he proceeded to laugh like a hyena. I'm not so sure she found it to be as hilarious as he did. I, on the other hand, did not find it to be hilarious at all. Instead, I stood rooted to my spot in horror as I listened to the staff member recount the story, which she finished by saying "....so we came down on that pretty hard." "Ummmmm, yeahhhhh.....of course you did." I managed to stammer, as I looked around for a rock to crawl under. Banana in the butt-crack. What will this child come up with next?

Well, it turns out I didn't have to wait long to find out. Because 2 days later, at a member-appreciation cookout we attended for the Y, he was on -- in full-form. We'd already eaten, and were sort of milling around and gabbing with the other members. A gentleman whom I'd never met was squatted down talking with Landis. This man been putting his baby in a stroller, and being that Landis loves babies, his actions had captured Landis's interest. I could see them talking about the baby and I watched them out of the corner of my eye as I chatted with another member. There were quite a few people wandering around, so the air was buzzing with lots of banter. But as it occasionally happens, it seemed as though everyone had a lull in their respective conversations at the same time. And at that precise moment -- as a wave of quiet calm washed over the crowd -- Landis leaned forward and began to speak in a loud clear voice. Eyes sparkling with excitement, and in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone in attendance he announced to this perfectly nice gentleman: "I'm about to kick you in the NUTS!!!"

All heads swiveled in our direction. I took stock of the situation as quickly as I could. Too many people knew us for me to pretend he didn't belong to me, so my Plan A -- pretending that I had no idea who this appallingly rude child was -- was foiled. Time to enact Plan B. I smiled at everyone, the brightest, most high-wattage smile I could manage -- fully worthy of a place at the Miss America Pageant -- and then turned and began clawing frantically at the base of a nearby boulder to see if it was actually possible for me to hide under a rock until everyone went home. Alas...... I couldn't make enough progress in 20 seconds to stuff my entire body under it, so I sucked it up, publicly acknowledged that I was his parent, and went to deal with it.

I approached the gentleman, -- who was not only standing up, but had also backed himself up a few feet in what I could only guess to be an effort to keep his nuts as far out of the range of the 4-year-old standing in front of him as possible -- and apologized for my son's atrocious behavior. Then I made Landis apologize, which he was reluctant to do until I whispered some life-threatening words words of encouragement into his ear. Then I hustled both the kids to the car and got out of there before either one of them tried out their particular brand of "humour" on any other unsuspecting person polite enough to make small talk with them.

Exasperated, I explained to Landis that it's completely inappropriate to talk like that -- especially to someone you don't know, and especially in public. I told him that no one thinks that kind of talk is funny -- which I'm not sure he fully believed since at least four of my friends could hardly stand up they were laughing so hard. Did he get what I was talking about? He nodded, but I don't know. I never really know what actually sinks in. I turned back around in my seat, sighed, and drove away wondering to myself "Where in the world do they pick up this stuff?" I have no idea. I swear they don't get it from me, so you'd better not point your finger in my direction or I'll kick you in the nuts.