grumpy about the stupid conversations, part 3 (candy and boogers)

All this nonsense on the 5-minute drive to the bagel shop for lunch:

Mommy, can I have candy?


When can I have candy?

I don’t know. Not today.

You know I have two favorite candies. Guess what my favorites are.

I don’t know.

My very favorite is the little ones. Do you know the ones I mean? They are little.

No idea, Nick.

it is like little balls, but there is no chocolate in them.

Oh you mean skittles? (I’m dismayed I know what he means.)

Yeah! Skittles! Mommy, can I have skittles?


When can I have skittles?

I don’t know. Not today.

But when can I?

I don’t know. we don’t have any.

Then when can we get them?

I don’t know. I would have to buy some.

Then can we stop for them now?


Do you know where to buy them?

No. I mean, yes. but I don’t want to. The bags are too big and then you’ll eat too many.

Can I maybe just have a little bowl of them, like I could have maybe three or four, or maybe 8 or 12?

I don’t want to talk about skittles anymore.

Okay. (15 second pause.) Mommy. Tell me one of the things I’m thinking about on the school bus.


Tell me one of the things I’m thinking about, on my chair on the school bus.

Nick, how can I —

Tell me.

That’s so random, Nick.

JUST GUESS. You just have to think a little bit and tell me what you think I’m thinking about.

Uh… Poop?

No! Poop isn’t in the bus.


No! Trees don’t grow on buses! It’s something that keeps you safe.

Oh, seatbelts.

Yeah! There’s no seatbelts on buses. What’s different about buses and cars?

Other than seatbelts? I don’t know, I guess the bus is big and the car is little.

Yeah! The bus is big and long but the cars are not big and long. But the cars are kind of big.

(Nick stares out the window contemplatively and makes weird machine-gun noises with his tongue for a few seconds.)

Mommy. What if there were boogers all over you. How would you feel?

I would feel boogery and slimy.


Because I would be covered in boogers. Duh.

Do your boogers have slime on them?

I don’t know. i mean, they’re mucus, so…

What does mucus mean?

Um, i guess it means boogers. Hey, what if YOU were covered in boogers?

I would reflect them back on you! (guffawing at his own awesomeness for this wit.)


What if you were in a dinosaur’s nose?


What if your whole entire body was in a dinosaur’s nose?

Then I would be covered with dinosaur boogers.

How would you feel?

I would feel disgusting.

Yeah, you would be TOTALLY disgusting. (hysterical laughter from back seat.)

Oh look we’re here. Get out of the car. (Mom shakes head to unload newly deceased brain cells.)

Grumpy IS poop?

Just for kicks, I googled “What does it mean to be grumpy.” I was wondering how the world around me perceives grumpy people. I was surprised by what google unloaded.

The urban dictionary says “grumpy” is slang for “the act of defocating” (misspelling in the original). As in, “I just took a grumpy in the can.”

For real? Who knew? I’m familiar with many, many euphemisms for poop and pooping — I consider myself a veritable expert — but this is new.

Aargh. Autocorrect. If I type “poop,” autocorrect actually offers me “poopfest” and “poopage” as alternative words. But if I type “poopING,” suddenly autocorrect is all coy and must change it to “popping” or “pooling.” Apparently Ms. Autocorrect has a problem with in-progress bowel movements. What a prude.

The on-line slang dictionary takes it to the next level of transformative hip. You can “bust a grumpy.” Pooping re-purposed as a form of dance? Mm.

I dunno. I think most of us feel less grumpy after releasing the hounds. Maybe I’m wrong.

This Google search took me in such an unexpected direction. Then I scrolled down and discovered google’s offerings for “related searches.”


I’ll never understand the Internet. (Shakes head and grumbles as she walks up the stairs to go bust a grumpy.)