Do you put your shits on the table?

Braden likes to pull his cute, little, bare feet up on the table during dinner and say, “fits!” He is very proud that he is correctly naming them and getting away with putting his feet on the table all at the same time. I try to be hardcore and not smile and coo at how cute he is.

“Yes, those are your feet. Now put your feet down, Braden. No feet on the table.”

Last week, I put his shoes on him so we could go run errands. “Shoose!” he exclaims, when he sees his shoes. He seems to be naming everything right now, in that cute little way that is barely intelligible.

We sat down to eat dinner together, after coming home, later. He still had his shoes on at the table, which is a rarity. Suddenly, he pulled his feet up on the table and yelled, “SHITS!!!”

I almost died laughing.

Yes, Braden. Those are your “shoes” and they are on your “feet.”

For the first time, I asked him, “Show me your feet again, Braden!” and picked the camera up off the table to take some pictures.

And that was one smug, happy “shits” on table-havin’ little booger.