Samantha was assisting me in making Space Bar Cookies. I was preoccupied squinting at the recipe while she fiddled with the unplugged mixer. I heard a little noise and just had to ask, “What was that?”
Samantha answered, in her forthright way, “That was a toot. That was my toot. I love toots. They make my brain happy.”
I immediately sent her to her daddy to repeat that gem for his benefit, while I attempted to find my place in tonight’s project all over again.
She’s quite serious that she loves toots. She claims any toot in her vicinity as her own. The louder the better. She’s got no shame in stinky, either.
She has loved toots since she was 6 months old. Sitting on our living room floor together, she tooted for the first time sitting on her bottom and immediately cracked up. I never thought toots were the slightest bit funny until that moment, watching her gummy grin, laughing right alongside her.
Toots make my day.