What I failed to leave out of this post headline was snot... and dirty finger nails and muddy feet (bare feet). Boys are messy and gross and rough and loud. I know this because I am married to one and have two sons to prove it. My friends and family with girls just don't get it.
My oldest is an outside boy and would play from dusk until dawn, only stopping for an occasional bathroom break (forgetting to put the seat up, of course) or re-hydration. My little man is obsessed with the fact that older brother (a.ka. 'Bubba') gets to play outside for much longer durations and in varying climates and plants his boogery nose and sticky little hands flat against the front door glass to peer out at what he's missing.
The thing they both have in common thanks to their dad and grandpas and uncles is a love of the outdoors. I am barely used to it from my husband and now, two more Davey Crockett's (who is actually distant cousin on my dad's side - go figure?) in the household. Which means more to come of woodsy, dusty, buggy stuff for mom, a self-proclaimed priss.
We (7) have recently been jumping off of furniture and front porches. We (2) have also been taking after big brother by figuring out how to push the bar stool over to the cabinet and climb it like a monkey to get the animal crackers. So high! So dangerous! No fear! Just ask the matching skinned knees that my boys currently wear like badges of honor.
Not only will it be a summer of grimy feet and even crunchier kitchen floors - we throw a little dirty mouth in there. The 1st grade end-of-year field trip proved to be an early lesson in cuss words, as our 7 year old called them. 'They were all over the place, mom! The B word and funk - do you know that one?' OMG. Thanks very much to shall remain nameless school district, for that little slice of life. I'm sure he would get a 100% on that quiz, since he has been practicing writing the words he learned at the park that day in his notebook. Handwriting is as neat as can be on those treasure words of the week! He cannot stop talking about it and his retention on this information is amazing. Please Lord, do not let him practice reciting or writing this lovely new vocabulary at church summer daycare. Note to self: prepare daycare for such events.
The thing that sends me into a side-splitting bout of LMAO is the goofy, gross, peculiar things that little boys think about and say, so very matter-of-factly. Just when I thought I could not take another second of the bickering going on a few days ago... the 7 year old was a little too close to the 2 year old, tickling a little to hard, which makes the 2 year old scream like a banshee.... Older brother was also practicing voices. After a series of 'stop thats' from me and yelping from the toddler, what came next was just what the doctor ordered because mom was teetering on the edge: 'Hey, mom! I just tried to do my deep scary voice for Ro-Ro and I think I threw up a little bit!'
And there, my friends, is what having boys is all about and I love every single sticky, icky, sweet and lovey bit of them.
