We had one of the Spud's best friends over for a playdate yesterday. They see each other infrequently now that the Spud has left the wonderful-but-far-away Montessori nursery where they both went and is now at the less-than-wonderful-but-close local nursery, but they are still great mates and I am very fond of his Mum, which is always a bonus.
There's always a sting in the tail when we see this particular friend because, although he is lovely and gentle and funny and bright, having continued with Montessori, he can write his own name now. Yes, I know. No no, same age. Exactly yes, born on the same day even. Sigh. Anyway so on Saturday during lunch he was lecturing the spud on what was going to happen to his fish fingers, because he now knows that food goes into the mouth, down the gullet, then into the stomach, through to the little intestine, into the big intestine and then comes out as poo. The spud was fascinated. I nearly ate my hand in envy (wouldn't fit down my gullet...).
I have never wanted to be one of those pushy parents that force information into their offspring but, er, it is quite cool to, you know, watch kids learn stuff. And stuff. So, today when he was complaining that his tummy hurt I took the opportunity to remind my Spud of those things his friend had told him.
I reminded him that he had a full tummy AND a full intestine and he might need to do a poo, something he's managed to avoid for a couple of days. This resulted in him doing a series of fairly alarming stomach contractions. Thinking he was going to make himself ill I asked him what was wrong and he said "Nuffin. I'm trying to make my poo flat so my tummy doesn't hurt."
A little information. A dangerous thing.