We stayed in a hotel on the way home. A nice hotel. There was no pubic hair on the bathroom floor and the comforters were probably bodily-fluid-free, because they were thin enough to easily throw in the washer.
Anyway...
My dad stayed in the room with our kids while we went to get Taco Bell. He shut the light out and rested on the empty bed. A conversation then started between our boys:
Z: B, where is Gramps?
B: I don't know. Maybe he is in the bathroom.
Z: Maybe he is poopin'.
B: Yup, he is poopin'!
Z: Gramps is funny.
B: Yup. And he was driving the car today. Wasn't he?!
Z: Yup. And he was eatin' our pretzels.
(My dad clapped his hands, loudly, hoping that the noise would scare the boys into being quiet.)
Z: What was that noise, B?!
B: I think Gramps farted.
Z: Grandpa stinks. (Grandpa is trying to stifle a laugh now...)
B: I don't stink.
Z: I don't stink either. GRANDPA stinks!
B: Yeah, grandpa stinks...
(Grandpa couldn't help but laugh now.)
Z: Grandpa, are you in here? Grandpa? What you doin'? You poopin'?
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