Sterling and I had a stimulating conversation last night. Not one of those typical conversations you have with a pre-teen. But a very hard-hitting, almost journalistic conversation. As a matter of fact...I'm waiting for Barbara Walters to call. I do not remember how it started. I mean, really, how do these intellectual conversations ever start.
"Did you poop today, dad."
"Yes."
"When," he asked.
"This morning."
"So...are you gonna poop again?"
"Nope."
"I poop twice a day. I just went again," he quickly retorted. "If you only poop once a day...is it alot?"
"I don't know. My toilet doesn't tell me." I said.
"C'mon dad, you gotta know. I can tell if it's alot," he said and stood up. With legs spread and his hands motioning from butt to knees..."is it alot?"
This is where I began belly laughing, and then he in turn. "I'm glad we had this conversation." That was a true father/son bonding moment. I gotta go now, the phone is ringing and I'm sure it's Barbara.
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