Mother, may I?

Dillon has recently picked up some manners. (Probably from television, cause you know I don't use 'em. Okay, just kidding.)

He has been saying, "I may..." when asking to do things. Like,

"I may get down, Mama?" after dinner. (I think that is where it started.)

and

"I may watch t.b., Mama?" (Sure, to learn some more manners.)

and

"I may play two minutes, Mama?" (Stalling technique before going to bed.)

This is all pretty endearing, and I am hardly able to resist. Especially when he raises his eyebrows in my direction, clasps his hands, and tacks on a "Pweeez?"

I have been impressed with his manners. 'Til tonight, when I am sure he crossed a boundary.

Perched on the toilet, his face strained, vessels bulging in his forehead, he looked at me:

"I may... go... poo-poo, Mama?" he gasped.

Well, I guess. Who's gonna stop you now?