The other day, I was on the phone with my mother-in-law, and we were talking about food (I was making my corned beef). She brought up an old favorite, but couldn't remember the name. It was meat, round and came in a red wrapper. I immediately identified the description as smoked butt. It was one of my favorites, too, growing up.
So, I was relaying the conversation at dinner tonight. I immediately regretted that move. Drew looked at me in horror, "Mom, you've eaten butt?!?" Andy gave me the "why did you start this?" look. I told Drew that it was pork, and really yummy. Michael, not one to be outdone, looked at me and said, "Mom, I don't have smoke in my butt!" I said, "No, but you do have gas in your butt." (OK, I don't usually talk like this, but I couldn't resist!). Michael's response, "I do not have a$$ in my bunt." (OK, sometimes he misses or adds a consonant, but it was too cute!).