Crack and the Beanstalk
The other day Cameron, my almost-three-year-old, came running excitedly into the kitchen and stood beside me ... with one hand rooted deep in the back of his underwear.
"Cameron. Get your hand out of your pants," I instructed him, as I do approximately 1,337,256 times a day.
"But I have a magic bean in my buttcrack!"
Uh ... you have a what?
"A magic bean, Mommy," he insisted. "In my buttcrack."
When your kid tells you there's something in his buttcrack, you're kind of obligated to look, as much as you don't want to. Especially when that something is being described as a magic bean. Soooo, I had Cameron bend over, and I peeped tentatively into his Spiderman-printed briefs.
Sure enough, there was something lodged in his crack. Something small, white, and rounded. WTF?
Dutifully, I removed the so-called "magic bean." Turns out it was neither a bean nor magic, but only a piece of eraser from a mechanical pencil.