The plastic dog poop can't be too far off now

Today, I got several glimpses of Weston's emerging sense of humor, and I have just two words for you: not funny. We went out to the park to play with his new birthday rocket this morning, and we split up on the way home so I could pick up the mail. Lloyd and the boys went directly home, or so they said. We were testing Lloyd's handheld radios, so they knew where I was the whole time. As I rounded a corner near the O' club, they jumped out and shouted, 'Bang!' Now, this is the kind of thing I have grown to expect and tolerate (barely) from Lloyd, but I was surprised by Weston's enthusiastic participation. He was doubled over, and there is no other word for it, he was chortling. He laughed all the way home as I scowled and tried to explain that we would have to agree to disagree about what was funny. He kept saying, "But we thought it was funny!"

Then, this afternoon, he started making poop jokes. He asked me repeatedly, "Are we having poop for dinner?", and then he would laugh uncontrollably and roll around on the fair. Again, not funny. Well, not funny to me. But a boy wearing earmuffs and no pants vacuuming the floor? Now, that's funny.