I was about 13-14 and feeling my oats and expressing my vocabulary of profanity, especially using the word "S*it".
Finally Mom had enough.
"Son", she said, "you seem to be quite an expert on s*it."
"Let ask you a question."
"When you look at chicken s*it, you see white stuff and brown stuff."
"What is the brown stuff?"
I stood there looking stupid for maybe a minute or two.
Finally Mom let me off the hook and said, "Son, the brown stuff is also chicken s*it."
I wanted to slither away and hide under a rock.
It was one of those life lessons you learn from Mom.
Lew