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Mrs. Popo goes to Florida

April 27, 2011

Mrs. Popo.  That’s me. 

***

(Or my mom.  You’re it)!

Our 17-hour car ride to Florida took 19 with the kids.  Not bad, I guess.  However, the first two hours really made us sweat. 

We weren’t even to Rockford, and Charlie was non-stop. 

“Where are we?”  “What city are we in?”  “What city is next?”  “What city is after that?”  “I’m hungry.”   “I need a snack.”  “I want something healthy and crunchy.”  “Can I use your iPhone?”  “I dropped my dog”.  “MOM!  get my dog!”  “I’m calling dad.”  “Where’s dad?”  “How long ’til we get there?”  “What city is next?”  “When are we going to be in Florida?”  “I dropped my frog”.  “MOM!  Get my frog!”  “Where’s my ditty bag.”  “Mom, mom, mom, MOM!…WHERE is is Harold and the Purple Crayon?”  “And where’s my pillow?”  Where’s my blankie?”  “I need to get cozy.”  “I’m so cold!!!”  “Ugh!  Now I’m sooooo hot.”  “Mom, I need to roll down the window.”  “Can we watch a movie?”  “It’s mmyyyyyy turn to pick the movie!”  “Where are we?”  “I have to pee.” 

STOP.

[2 miles later]

“I have to poop.”

STOP.

[2 miles later] Grayson:  “I have to poop.”

STOP.

[5 miles later] Charlie:  “I’m hungry.  I want something  just crunchy.”  And so on, and so on.  After about 3 hours, they were great.  But whoa, for a while,

WHOA.

**********

**********

This is how Mrs. Popo came about:

Driving down I-57 south, somewhere in Illinois I think, Charlie asked where we were.  I replied, “Paw Paw”. 

Grayson:  Hee-haw!!!  

“Paw Paw!, Poo-Poo!, Popo!  Hahahahahahahaha.  Mommy, you’re a Popo!”

Hee-haw!!!

And somehow, everything became all about Popo. 

For the next 10 days. 

We came to realize that Popo actually really = butt.  And there was a lot of butt talk. 

***

And unfortunately, there still is!

***

It truly, was like re-living my tweenage years with Mikey (aka. Grayson). 

Laughing at his own jokes, everything is a butt, a butt-face, a poop-face, do you want to smell my butt?  etc., etc.

Seriously?  I do not know where they learn this stuff.  It must be an innate boy-thing.

I think for the next 15 hours down to Florida, my mom and I entertained ourselves with, [and where] …Mrs. Popo could really go…

{Mrs. Popo goes to Washington; Mrs. Popo goes insane;  you get it}.  Funny only if you were there, I guess.

**********************

I think I need another vacation.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. Jody Brower permalink
    April 29, 2011 7:15 am

    Love the blog. The first three hours must’ve been torture. Too funny. What great times and memories you are all making. It’s what life is all about. Thanks for sharing. As always, you’re photos are just amazing!

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