Boys Raising Boys

The other night, Gracie began shrieking in the living room.  She came to find me 3.4 seconds later, with Bean right on her heels, ready to defend himself against his accused crimes.

“BEAN TOOK MY TOY!” she squealed.

“Where’s her toy?” I asked Bean.

His eyes grew as wide as saucers.  No response.

“Bean,” I said, more firmly.  “Where is Gracie’s toy?”

Wide eyes.  No response.

Finally, Gracie had had enough.  “IT’S RIGHT THERE!” she screamed, pointing to Bean’s crotch.  Sure enough, he fished out an Elsa Magical Winter Wand from his pants.  (Don’t even get me started on all the funny, inappropriate jokes that come to mind when a dude pulls a magic wand out of his pants…)


Later that night, the kids ran ahead of me up to the bathtub for bath time after dinner.  They like to play in the empty bathtub sometimes while I’m cleaning up dinner, so that wasn’t too strange.  The strangeness kicked in when I came up the stairs about five minutes later.  The minute the kids heard me coming down the hall, the bathroom door slammed shut.

Well, that’s odd.

When I opened the bathroom door, I found the two of them in the bathtub.  Bean had peed ALL. OVER. THE. PLACE.  And I do mean ALL OVER in ways that only boys could do.  And there were my two kids, sitting in the pee that was running down the bathtub.

Now, I shrieked.  (Where do you think Gracie gets it from?!)


Apparently, my shrieking drew the attention of my hockey hibernating husband because he pulled himself away from the Rangers playoff game long enough to come upstairs and make sure I didn’t kill the children.  He helped me bathe the kids, and then he took them to put jammies on while I cleaned the rest of the bathtub.

As we passed each other in the hallway, I whispered angrily to him, “You need to talk to Bean about his… you know…” I said, gesturing south of the belt line.  “He shoved a toy down his pants earlier and now this!”

Chris just rolled his eyes.  “Oh, leave him alone,” he laughed.  “Wieners are fun!”


Wieners are fun.  THAT’S my life partner.  THAT’S the man I have pledged to love, honor, and cherish.  THAT’S the father of my children.

Wieners.  Are.  Fun.


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11 Thoughts to “Boys Raising Boys”

  1. Cho

    I think the post title should be wieners are fun. Hahaha

  2. LIssa

    hahahaha My husband laughed and said “yeah, can’t take it too seriously”. Weiners are fun 🙂

  3. Janet

    Yep. These strange beings are wired differently from the moment of conception. That being said, I laughed like crazy.

  4. Amy

    Well this post made me literally laugh out loud this morning! My son, who is also 5, is giving me the same grief with all of this weiner business. It’s a constant, daily struggle that involves lots of “Get your hand out of your pants!” Of course husband replies casually, “It’s his. Leave him alone.” Ugh. Boys.

  5. Southern MN Gal

    Honestly laughing at this one! I have three boys (18, 15 & 12) so I totally know where you are coming from! When they were all little, the second they got excited about something, that’s the first thing they’d grab!! I would tell them to “let go before it’s three feet long and 1/4 inch thick!” which just made them laugh. Boys….. They are definitely their own type of beast. 🙂

  6. I laughed out loud. God gives us boys (and husbands) to keep us humble and make sure we laugh daily.

  7. Nicole

    Should have made Chris clean it up…bet Bean would have heard a lecture from him then! 😉

  8. Lauren Westwood

    “Butt” is my three year old son’s favorite word right now. He thinks it’s sooo funny. So much so that he actually mooned the pediatrician the other day. Not our regular pediatrician, but a young, obviously new-to-the-game pediatrician who had to work the Saturday shift. She said “Um, that’s a first…” Surely, it won’t be the last….

  9. Jen

    My husband’s favorite thing to say when Sullivan does something cringe worthy is to say “he’ll grow out of it. I did. ” well that’s supposed to be comforting, I guess.

  10. Michelle

    I remember when my little brother and I were Bean and Gracie’s age and how much hilarity revolved around those types of discoveries. We were in hysterics!

  11. girlsmama

    ROFL!!! That was hysterical, and yet another reason why I am grateful for my four daughters.

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