Last week he went upstairs after eating and I cleaned the kitchen table before getting him ready for the day. He had some time to mess around before I got to him. He played in his sister's room, then in his, minding his own business. I went upstairs after fifteen minutes or so and said, "OK, kiddo, lets get you ready for the day!" He had syrup all over himself. I grabbed the bag of wet wipes and started on his belly. Then the following conversation transpired:
Me: OK, hold still, I need to wipe your face off.
Him: No! Mom! I have crapshit on.
Me: Sorry, what was that?
Him: Crapshit. I have crapshit on my lips.
Me: All the more reason to wipe your face off.
Him: NO MOM! I HAVE SISSY'S CRAPSHIT on. You can't wipe it off.
Me: You have your sister's crapshit on your face?
Him: No, it's pink crapshit. (At this point he rubbed his lips together.)
Me: Oh! Are you saying Chap Stick?
Him: Yes, crapshit. It's fruity!