I draw the line at bumholes

Large Fry has be sick for the last two days. Not sick enough to where he actually sleeps and I can get house work done or sit on my ass on Facebook doing Very Important Things, but sick enough to be slightly whiny and slightly annoying.

**I take everything I said about Thomas the Train away. On days like this he rocks my socks. He's been entertaining said sick child all day.**

However, the nature of Large Fry's illness is greatly centered around the need for a toilet if you get my drift. Several pairs of undies later I think we have this problem under control.

But now his bum hurts so he says. It huurrts. HURRTS BAD. His bum is NOT feeling good.

Now I am a good Mama. I kiss boo boos of all kinds. I kiss Fuzz's boo boos.( If anyone needed boo boo fixing it would be Fuzz I might add. Poor thing has it ROUGH). When the child asked me to kiss his bumhole I had to draw the line.

You agree with me right? I am sitting on Facebook minding everyone else's business when this small streak runs in and screeches at what can only be a decibels dogs can hear "Mommy!! Mommy!! KISS MY BUMHOLE!"

Say what? Surely I did not hear that correctly. Surely not. I ask slowly as to not confuse myself or the child.."What did you say?"

Large Fry: Kiss.my.bumhole!

Me: No. No I don't think I can do that.

Large Fry: Why not? I think you can if you just give it a chance! You might like it!

So this is when parenting bites me in the ass? I proceed to have the longest 4 minute argument of my life on why I will not kiss his bumhole.

He's sulking on the couch now with plans to asks his father when he gets home. I have no plans to forewarn him either.