After 7 years of lovingly referring to Tristan as a ‘turdburger’, this was the conversation at the dinner table tonight:

Tristan: I don’t want to eat anymore.
Me: Come on turdburger. Finish your food!
Alisha: What’s a turd Tristan??

(at this point I feel the glare of their mum staring at me from across the table and I hold my breath waiting for the explanation)

Tristan: It’s just like a frog burger. Daddy always calls me that.
Me: (trying to keep a straight face) erm I think you mean toad Tristan, not turd.
Tristan: Oh. Well what’s a turd then?
Me: It’s another word for ‘poo’.
Tristan: WHAT??????? ARE YOU SERIOUS ??? You’ve been calling me a ‘pooburger’???

At this point my hysterical laughter is getting out of control and definately not helping matters!!

Me: Yes Tristan,Β  sorry!!
Tristan : That’s just mean!! MUMMMMMYYYYYY! Daddy calls meΒ  a poo burger!!………

At this point I soon realise my humour is not shared by the rest of my family!!

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