As the mother of sons, I often feel outnumbered in my own house. As their mother, I am often the nurturing one, however, as they are growing, there is less and less need for that, and more and more need for me to have a sense of humor. I am forewarning readers that this post is not for those easily offended or the faint of heart!
Belching and flatulence are a regular part of our household-in fact, I just heard my son, Drew say to Peter, "let's play the tooting game!"
It is Sunday night. Time to prepare for the week ahead. The boys have had dinner and are in the process of taking baths. Tonight's story revolves around my almost five-year-old, Drew. Before hopping in the tub, he decided that he needed to do his duty. When he has to go #2, he does tend to take a while. I was urging him to hurry up and get in the tub. He told me that he needed to wipe his heinie (thank goodness he doesn't need me to do it for him anymore!). Andy warned him to flush just as Drew was saying that the toilet was full of toilet paper. I am sure you can guess what came next-yes,we had to plunge, but not before Drew told Andy, "Dad, I believe you need to plunge the toilet!" I'm glad that Andy was here to do it!