Snips, Snails, and Burps

Ah, the world of boys. Almost needs no explanation. Almost.

As a brand new, inexperienced, and naive mother, I was wisely told that the world of boys, is like no other. I have had so much to look forward to. I was also warned that I should expect to be good and grossed out at least once a day. At first, I thought that just meant that when approached by a little mop-top, with a closed fist, excitedly asking you to hold out your hand...you should resist with every ounce of your being. Just don't do it.

With time, I have nearly willingly stretched the definition of "grossed out" to encompass a plethora of categories. Some, but by far not all, of these categories include: smells, sounds, bathtubs, outside objects, objects placed in mouth, outside objects placed in mouth, and of course, hand placement.

I have come to accept, and sometimes enjoy, all things that classically make my son a very typical boy. I have not, however, been able to get a good grasp on the ability to stop apologizing to a room I have just entered, for anything that my handsome harry may or may not do or say in the course of the time that we will be in said room. With what seems to be great fortune, many of the most blatant and startling gross out moments have happened within the walls of our own home.

Case in point. As Chase and I were playing a game together the other day, we were also enjoying an exorbitant amount of the burps. I know. I know. But Moms should be allowed some gross out moments, too, I should think. We found ourselves philosophising on why we thought a good burp was so necessary to one's survival and comfort. After one particular, and quite resounding blast, I said,

"Well, that was about a 10 on the Richter scale. I bet that felt good to relieve all that pressure."

With complete sincerity, Chase closed his eyes and dreamily said,

"Oh, yeah. And the best part of that burp...I got to taste my Cream of Wheat again. Hmmm. Yum."

bleck I barf Heart gag Boys.

I know. What can I say. My generosity astounds me, too.