Out of the mouths of Babes…

November 7, 2010

Subject #1- “Let me poke you in the butt”

Subject #2- “No, it’ll hurt”

Subject #1- “Don’t worry I’ll only stick it in a little bit”

Subject #2- “No way- you’re not putting that thing anywhere near my butt”

Subject #1- “Come on, I stuck it in my butt and I didn’t feel a thing- watch” (sticks it in his butt- Doesn’t even flinch)

Subject #2- “You barely stuck it in- I don’t trust you, you’ll shove that thing all the way in if I let you do it to me”

Subject #1- “Fine- can I stick it in your arm?”

Subject #2- “Ehh- sure, why not”

You should be completely ashamed of yourself for the dirty thoughts you’re having right now.

The above listed dialog is nothing more than my son trying to convince his best friend that being stabbed in the hip with a cocktail sword isn’t really all that bad.  Okay, I get it- a little strange, but not nearly as strange, or disturbing, as what you were likely thinking when you read it the first time.

Here are the facts:

Connie and I treated Mack and his best buddy to sushi the other night.  We ordered them some Japanese dumpling thingies as an appetizer and as fate would have it they came with a whole glass full of those cute little cocktail swords.  You know the ones I’m talking about- the little swords used to skewer the olives that adorn your favorite martini.  My boys don’t drink martinis so they have no idea of their intended purpose.  My boys do engage in sword play however, so that’s exactly what they used them for.

Unable to claim a clear victory (because it’s difficult to draw blood with a 1.5 inch plastic saber) they decided to take turns voluntarily stabbing each other to identify the toughest ten-year old at the table.  Eventually they got around to stabbing each other in the butt.  The conversation that started this post is exactly what they said to each other. 

Connie and I were laughing so hard we couldn’t speak.  Not because we have personal experience with that conversation, but because, like you, we’re immature and inappropriate.  Its kind of like when you’re at the zoo and you see a monkey pleasuring himself- you know you shouldn’t laugh or encourage their behavior but you can’t help giggling like a school girl because it’s friggin funny- inappropriately so, but funny none-the-less.  For the record I also laugh uncontrollably when monkeys fling poop or playfully wrestle each other (at least that’s what I tell the boys they’re doing).

If I could have gained my composure I would have ended the banter before the rest of the restaurant’s patrons became offended, but sadly every time I opened my mouth to end it Mack would say something even more inappropriate.  I’m truly ashamed of my lack of discipline- but not ashamed enough that I won’t share this experience with as many people as I can- because like I said, it’s friggin funny.

Next week I promise to share with you the discussion Cayden had in Home Depot about the size of his “Caulk” (I’m not making this shit up)

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Heather posted the following on November 7, 2010 at 10:32 pm.

I had to comment, mainly because my anti-span word was “FoShizzle!”
I’m sure I’ve said this before, but if our boys lived closer to each other, the universe would surely implode form the level of immaturity that would ensue. And the kids would probably be that way too.

ryan posted the following on December 10, 2010 at 9:29 pm.

nothing like some kids saying things that can easily be misconstrued by adults…

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