Keeping Faith, Flatulence and Runaway Spiders

Yesterday Hubby, myself and our wee grandson, had a bout of weeding down our allotment. Whilst inspecting the radishes I heard hysterical giggles coming from behind me. I turned around and asked the little man what he was laughing at. He said, " Im laughing at this spider running away Nanny!" Smiling, I said to him it would't hurt him, and to be gentle with it. He said of course he wouldnt hurt it, he said he thought it was, "bootiful". At times that child perks me up no end, he's a diamond. Mind you, I wasn't so chuffed later on when he called me thunder pants. Not quite sure what he meant, or where he learnt that from. Maybe its a new kids cartoon? Or heaven forbid maybe he thinks I wear big granny bloomers? Anyway, I plucked up the courage to ask him what it meant, and apparently he's been called it himself. I stupidily asked him why was that, and he replied because of his pumping of course. No decorum whatsoever that child.