The wife and I are raising two boys. If you’ve been hanging around my blog or reading my book you are probably becoming familiar with our family values. We all love each other. We all have a good time. We all love to laugh and be goofy. Some of us act goofier than others. This just in: I’ve never typed the word “goofier” before using it in that last sentence.
Boys are gross. My boys are gross. If you have boys, your boys are gross. I’m not talking about their physical appearance or there stench. Although sometimes those traits rear their ugly heads and it’s hard for even a mother to look beyond it. What I’m really talking about is the garbage that comes out of their mouths. Boys like to say gross things. They enjoy it! If there is more than one boy present, they will say gross things in competition in order to be crowned the king-of-grossness. What do you suppose that crown would look like?
In my house this started a long time ago. My sweet little baby boys are only fourteen months apart in age. This makes playing the gross game an even competition. It seems like only yesterday that these cute little boys were playing with little stuffed animals and cuddling with their mommy. Then wham! Only a short time passes and the words coming out of their mouths were describing juicy snots, deep dripping bleeding cuts, and destroying the bathroom with gas.
We were pulling through a McDonald’s once when the boys were having a difficult time deciding what flavor of milkshake to order. Then one of them hit us up with, “My brother wants the dirt ball milk shake.” The other chimes in, “Oh yeah! He wants a vomit milk shake!” I chime in with, “Gross! You’ll both be having the dead fly milkshakes with a sprinkling of dried spider legs.” Yeah, as a good dad, I’ll always be playing the game too. And then my wife tops us all, the new queen-of-grossness, “I’ll have the diarrhea milkshake.” She knows how to play the game.
Tonight I was sending my older boy to bed. He has been battling a nasty cold for a way too long now. Tonight he was blowing his nose and wiping the crud out of his eyes. He then explains to me that the sinus is actually connected and so the crud in your eyes is made up of the same junk in boogers. Skeptically I rebutted, “I don’t know if that’s true since they both taste so differently.” I’ve got game! The gross king reigns on!
I repeated the story to my wife and my other son. “Dad, that’s so gross!” My wife, who knows exactly what it takes to be a good mom, immediately added, “I don’t know what eye boogers taste like.” Wait for it. Wait for it. “Aw mom! That’s so gross! You’re awesome!”
PS- This has nothing to do with grossness. A fellow blogger (the most awesome book reviewer in the world) has ask for my help in spreading the word about a cause she is dedicated to supporting. Please visit the following:
Room to Read (www.roomtoread.org) or see her blog for additional details at www.closedthecover.com under the tab “Room to Read.”