Diarrhea (it's not what you think)

Today the sun came out and the snow started to melt again. Everything was drippy and glorious, and we remembered that it really is Spring.

We took a lovely family trip to Home Depot where we chose lavatory fixin's for the almost finished upstairs bathroom (pictures tomorrow), and the kids were such troopers that I offered to stop for bagels on the way home, after a quick run through Office Max. There, feeling guilty about their boring morning next door at HD, I let them have whatever they wanted. The little girls chose some tiny notebooks and sharpie pens and were quite satisfied, to the point of having to hold them in the car for the drive home.

Parked outside the bagel store with my window down and a fresh breeze blowing, my eyes closed and warm in the sun, I relaxed while waiting for the older two to come back with the bagels. Behind me the twins twittered like little birds to eachother, and all was right with the world.

I wasn't listening to the twins, but when I heard Cakes say to the Bean,
"You can't look at what I'm writing in my diarrhea," I must admit I perked up my ears, and when the Bean said "You're not allowed to see my diarrhea either" I really started to listen.
By the time the big kids came back with bagels I was snorting into my hands helplessly, having figured out of course that there was no diarrhea, only diaries.

At home then, Cakes asked me to help her write in her diarrhea, and I said, not wanting to embarrass her, that I would help her write in her diary (with emphasis), and helped her write an adorable little secret, which was that the day after tomorrow she did not finish her icecream or her pie, which was told to me in hushed tones.
Then she looked at me and said,
"Mama what is diarrhea?"
I said "Well, that's a kind of squirty poop, but a diary is a book you write in about your day."
She said "Oh, okay" and I was relieved because she can be very sensitive about feeling she's made a mistake.

Not long after she was in the bathroom right by the kitchen, and as the Bean went by she called her in. They closed the door but sound travels well from that bathroom (not the best trait in a bathroom, actually, except on occasions like these), and so I got the hear Cakes tell the Bean, in a very knowledgable tone,
"You know, a diary is a kind of squirty poop, and diarrhea is....(pause, deep sigh)..no wait, I've got that all wrong."

More falling about laughing, and really deep and abiding gratitude that they have eachother to keep on the straight and narrow about the important facts of life.