Kiss My Taters

As I was working online (okay, more like I was playing online since I was visiting my Yahoo! groups) M came into my "office" (a small section of my bedroom) for some morning lovin'. He dove into my lap and, after wrapping his arms around my neck, began to give me a humungous hug. Then he asked for kisses:

"Kiss my toungue, Mom."

At this comment I leaned away from him and, with my nostrils flaring with the idea of such a gross act, I exclaimed, "No way, son! That's disgusting!"

"Fine... Kiss my eyeballs." At this, M closed his eyes and pointed to each lid before replacing his arms back around my neck. I leaned down and gave both of his "eyeballs" a kiss.

"Kiss my nose!" I puckered up and gave the bridge of his nose a soft kiss. By this time, I was beginning to get into the spirit of kissing my son on the precious little parts of his adorable face. His next request threw that desire out the window, though...

"Kiss my taters, Mom!!!" As I watched with a quizzical look on my face M released his grip from around my neck and, placing a finger on each side of his ear, stretched his ear canal open a bit so that I could get my lips coser to his "Taters" (that crud that every mom calls a potato field).

Gross!!!