This one story from the road: I read this great Buddhist blog, how once when she was talking to her grandkid she just gave up and talked about poo for an hour. Heck, it’s what he wanted to talk about!
On my car trip with 6-year old occupying the rear passenger seat, for 300 miles or so across the expanse of San Joaquin Valley, my iPod has run out of juice, my car-adapter wasn’t working, the radio wasn’t that interesting, and he was feeling chatty. I thought of that blog, and somehow we got into a competitive insult game, involving almost everything scatalogical. I was impressed when he whipped out some rare forms of poo. I introduced the concept of infinity: “Well you’re wearing a diaper of infinity Tilden blueberry poos… “, etc. That’s me, super-aunty, who can act immature on a dime. Knock-knock jokes also work. Thank you, iPhone, and Google, oh Oracle of the Internet, for finding that page of knock-knock jokes.