Monday, November 28, 2011

I like big...

What is the connection between boys and butts? I mean seriously. Grown men slap each other on the behind during professional sports, my husband is mesmerized by Beyonce when she does the butt shake thing and honestly, I can't blame him. I definitely do not think he is ready for that jelly. Old men in my yoga class pass gas audibly and offer no apology. My five-year-old son is no exception, he is obsessed with butts (except we don't say "butt" so it's booty). He loves to talk about tooting and poop and tooting and saying butt. The reality I'm facing is that he is only five and it is all uphill in this department from here. I've never met a middle school boy that wasn't obsessed with farting, have you?

Miles, my son, has recently discovered mooning. Who taught him that you ask? Oh yeah, it was me. Mom of the year has already been inscribed with my name, no worries. Of course, he thinks this practice is hilarious. In fact, a few weeks ago, he pulled down his pants in Fuzzy's Taco in Weatherford, TX to impress the coolest 10-year-old we know. Yes, pulled down his pants, underwear and all (thankfully no skid marks!) in the middle of the restaurant during the crowded lunch hour. What did I do? Oh, I was nursing my baby in the middle of the crowded restaurant and could physically do NOTHING! I narrowed my eyes into daggers, made him sit next to me with his head on the table. I wanted to laugh and kill him all at the same time.

A few days later, we were standing in line at Target and Miles asks why the lady checking our items has such a big booty. Nope, I'm not kidding. She was polite and kind and I was red-faced and choking on words as I swiped my debit card as fast as I could, refused a receipt, sprinted for the door. What is it with butts?!

On Thanksgiving day, Miles and I were in the bathroom together washing our hands and he splashed water on me. I leaned in close to his face and lowered my voice and explained why that was not a good idea. He is looking above my eyes to my forehead and he says, "Mom. Uh Mom. MOM!" I say, "What Miles, you're interrupting me?" He says, "Um..Um..that space between your eyes, um it looks like a butt crack when you talk like that. Sorry I said butt mom. It looks like a booty crack!" Then he runs out the door laughing.

I look in the mirror, trying not to laugh or cry and I realize, he is right. It looks just like a butt crack.