Just another normal evening after work.

Moment #1:

I am sitting on the couch, relaxing after a long day, when Scott runs to the daycare center to pick up Connor. I relish in the silence a bit, soaking in the nonsense of a rerun sitcom that I watch by myself. The dogs are outside, keeping themselves occupied. When the boys finally arrive, Connor and Scott drag their feet in through the front door, both beat by the heat of the day.

Connor immediately yells throughout the house, "MAAAAAndy.... can I watch a kid's show?"

This is his way of asking if he may watch cartoons on the huge 1,000 inch TV in the family room. And since I'm not really watching anything of super importance to me, I wait a second to answer. (This gives Scott a chance to tell Connor whether or not adding ONE more hour of Fox News to his already-watched-10-hours this morning.)

But before Scott or I could answer him, which seemed like only a split second after his first question, he then told us, "First though, I am going to wipe my butt. Then, can I watch a kid's show?"

By that time, Scott had walked into the kitchen and dropped Connor's lunch box and coat off. He looked at me and we both shared a big smile at Connor and his hilarious conversations that he has with us.

As we continued to look at one another for a second or two, we realized the same thing at the same time. And then Scott ran to the bathroom and showed Connor how to perform a proper "wipe" on a dirty butt-- that Connor unfortunately probably had for a few hours at school.

The priceless moment was when he left the bathroom, turned off the light, and then stated to us and the dogs, "My butt crack is clean. Can I watch a kid's show now?"

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Moment #2:

We have all just finished dinner and Scott puts the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. Connor escapes to another room, and Scott and I plop down on the couch, exhausted from the day.

We make small conversation, and then decide what to watch on TV. We both decide that we should watch something that we all can partake in. So we turn it to one of the only shows that we feel doesn't cuss incessantly, that don't show promote sex, that isn't TOO crude that we feel like hypocrites around Connor: The Simpsons.

I call Connor into the family room, "Connor, come sit with us. Do you want to watch the Sindersons?" (This is what he used to call the show when he was younger. I still love the reference.)

"Sure. I LIKE the Simpsons." He pronounces the show correctly and nearly breaks my heart because it just proves just how quickly he is actually growing up. And then I realize it: He called this to me from the downstairs bathroom.

Scott yells to him in jest, "Connor, are you POOPing?"

And then we hear it: His response, clear as day and exactly like the intro to any Simpson's episode I've ever witnessed:

"The Simmmmpsonnnnnsssss.... Do, do, do-do, do, do-do, do, do-do..."