Never in my life did I ever expect the name ‘Professor Pippy Pee-Pee Poopypants’ to emerge from my mother’s mouth.
But last night, there it was—an uncensored stream of carefully scripted potty language coming from my dear, sweet Mom, whose alter-ego (Booger Burger Lips) seems awfully comfortable in the sophisticated literary world of one Captain Underpants.
I’m having a little trouble picturing either of my grandmothers being as willing as my mother was to read Captain Underpants and the Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants in front of a live, dinner-time audience of children and grandchildren. But perhaps I underestimate the extent of their grand-motherly devotion. They certainly were willing to watch the championship-grade cheesy Land of the Lost program with me, and that’s really saying something.
As you might have guessed, Mom’s little read-aloud stunt scored big with my kids. I suspect that a public recitation of Walter, the Farting Dog can’t be far behind; I’d better get my recorder ready.
Thank you, Dav Pilkey, for creating a bridge between the generations, even if it does connect through the bathroom window.
Got any moments you’d like to share?
Please, send ’em my way—I’d love to read ’em!