Comic relief by a preschooler means...yep, it's about poop

Lil E's busy in dress rehearsals for Halloween, as he has been all week. His costume's evolved, over the course of ten days, from a construction worker to a firefighter-construction worker to a complete construction worker. We will see which service professional shows up at doorsteps in the neighborhood tonight. When I left him in my mom's care this morning, he had on his construction vest, tool belt, hard hat and work boots, all over his orange spider Halloween jammies. He was barely hanging on to the overfilled tool box packed with a plastic drill, screwdriver, pliers, various tape measures, a magnifying glass and other assorted items from our apartment and my parents' house that he's deemed critical construction accoutrement. I love every bit of it.
Last night, we were toasting to my late grandfather who would have celebrated his 100th birthday yesterday. Lil E and I ate with my parents and traded stories about my granddad. Lil E kept interrupting with construction stories, wanting to be a part of the conversation even though he knows nothing about the granddad I had for the first thirteen years of my life. Finally, it was his turn to contribute. He launched into a complicated story with dramatic inflection, all centered on some big demolition project.
Lil E: ...and then the construction worker pooped and peed on his face! Hahaha!
We were silent for a moment, trying not to acknowledge this talk too much.
Me: Honey, we don't talk about that stuff at the table. Go on with your story.
Lil E: So the construction worker...
My mom interrupted.
Grandma Trini: And this time, no poop talk.
Lil E narrowed his eyes. And then, with timing that couldn't have been better scripted, he raised an eyebrow and one finger into the air.
Lil E: Wellllll, maybe just one part.
And that, we could not resist. We all laughed out loud, which only egged on the boy and the potty talk. But there we were, at the table and laughing. For that moment, I didn't care at all why.
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