Kiss it

A few days ago Elijah was carrying on as though he might die, but since this is a normal event for him I wasn't too alarmed. Once he calmed down a bit I asked him what was wrong.

"Ouchie." Imagine a pouty expression and a pudgy finger pointing to his face.

"Your head?" I ask.

Negative.

"Your face?"

Negative.

"Your mouth?"

Negative.

"Young!"

"Young?" Pause. "Tongue?"

Affirmative! He bit his tongue.

"Are you ok now?"

"No, Kiss it."

"I can't kiss your tongue."

"Kiss it!" This time it's a yell with intensity.

I kiss his cheek. "There, all better now."

"No, here," pointing inside his mouth. He then lays his head back with his mouth wide open.

"I can't kiss it, see. . ." I lean over to show him that my lips, luscious and full as they are will not go inside his mouth to kiss his tongue. "Sorry."

"Kiss it Mommy." Now he sticks his tongue out for me and waits expectantly.

Would you kiss the tongue of a two year old?

I did. My lips passed very briefly across his little stuck-out tongue. And he was happy.

Then yesterday I was changing his diaper--a stinky, poopy diaper. He said, "Ouchie Mommy!"

I asked what hurt. He said, "Bum."

I just stared at him, and saying nothing went on with wiping his cute buns.

Ever persistent, he wasn't giving up. He said, "Kiss it, Mommy."

"What?"

"Kiss it, bum."

My two year old told me to kiss his bum!

So now you're wondering if I kissed his behind. I have limits people, I have limits.