Boys Will Be Boys

Content alert: This post involves a penis. *gasp* Moving on. My son discovered his male anatomy quite some time ago, but I had to laugh because he was particularly enamored with it during and after his bath last night. Tugging at it, staring at it, then being temporarily distracted by his pudgy belly (which he proceeded to pinch), then OH HEY LOOKY THERE at my permanently attached toy! This thing is awesome. What is it with guys and their parts? It’s as if it’s stamped into their brains in utero. Oy.
Also, how is it that this child already burps and farts and just smells funky sometimes for no reason just like his father? Hmmm? Did I mention that the dog farts too? Yeah. I’m stuck in a house with all these males, enjoying some TV after kid is in bed and – Oh good god what is that? That’s awful! Did you do that or was it the dog? Can you smell yourself? No? (shakes blanket dramatically sending the noxious fumes back in his general direction). To which he says, “Ohoo, that was a good one.” Nice, babe, nice. Yup, I just ratted out my smelly husband. Don’t even try to tell me your dude doesn’t smell. He does and you know it. Maybe he’s a little more discreet about it (if you just started dating), but his stuff most certainly does not, to quote the hubs, “smell like roses.”
All that being said, I’m quite glad we had a boy. Maniac one second, sweet, cuddly, hugging monster the next. I’ll take it. Only I could do without his current disenchantment with food. I kind of dread meal times right now. But I digress…

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