Never meanin' no harm. Beats all you ever saw, been in trouble with the law since the day they was born. (You really needed to have some Waylon Jennings in your life today, didn't you?)
Anyway, Kenson is really a good ole' country boy at heart. Our babysitter, whom we adore, lives on a farm with her hubby and five kids, including her twin boys who are a week older than Kenson. Kenson, of course, loves it.
Last week, he came home and had to add "going potty on the corn" as an item on the things we want to thank God for prayer list. No big deal, farm kids do that all the time. D and I both chuckled at that. It's actually come up twice now as a thanks item. (If you're a city person who is reading this and you're mortified, really it's okay. I grew up on a farm and am not appalled. And there are way worse things in life than 3 year olds going potty outside.)
Yesterday, D was hanging up Christmas lights outside. Kenson was playing outside while D worked. Pretty soon, D hears Kenson say "potty", turns to find him, and sees him sans pants, peeing on the leaves. It's funny because whenever he has to use the regular potty, it takes him like a month to get his pants off. So it's official, we're a good ole' boy. Headed for trouble with the law, I reckon.
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