Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Penis Week

Monday

Lars got slammed into a whiteboard and went down to the school nurse complaining that his head, elbow, and penis hurt. The nurse was able to find bumps on his head and elbow but she isn't allowed to look at "the other area" (apparently she's not allowed to say "penis" out loud, either?) and wanted to be sure I knew about the accident so we could check him out at home. She gave Lars ice for all three injuries and then sent him back to class. By the time he got home, the whole incident was far from his thoughts - so much so that he didn't even mention it until we were finishing dinner. "Oh," he cried, "I hurt myself when I got slammed into the whiteboard! Mama, look!" The command was issued with enthusiasm as he dropped his drawers and presented himself for a checkup, right there at the dining table, while I still had my fork in my hand. It was an interesting way to end the meal, that's for sure.

Tuesday

The boys improvised a brothers' duet while they got ready for bed. Ross sang loudly from the tub, with hiphop flair. "My butt is rubb-bber! Oh! My butt is rubb-bber!"

Lars stood in the bathroom doorway, gyrating purposefully while singing, "I wave my penis at you-OO! I wave my penis at you-OO!" with a particular lack of rhythm and tone which clearly indicate he is his father's son.

What does a mother - specifically a Worst one - do when she finds her children performing acts last seen in the '80s on West 43rd? She tells Ross that he'd better aim to land on the rubber butt if he's going to fall while dancing in the tub and Lars that he really should be all the way in the bathroom if he's going to wave his penis around.

Wednesday...Anyone want to hazard a guess about what's in store for the rest of the week?

2 comments:

*pal said...

During one of my visits with the perinatologist...the visits wherein an ultrasound is performed...every, single visit, people...the Doctor (the third of five in the practice I had met to that point...) wanted to confirm my statement, "It's a boy!" As he moved the wand across my belly, he finally located the "boy parts." Baby Ziggy was, ahem, "playing with himself." The doctor assured me, yes, he is a boy; and, Paige, don't worry, he'll stop doing that when he's about 70.

Lady Epiphany said...

Your school nurse is bizarre.

I have to admit I find it hard to believe a little dropped trou ends a meal Chez Vous. That "you must wear a shirt to the table" rule had to come from somewhere...

We all know what's in store. Someone's going to pee through the ceiling. Perhaps Lars trying to shoot over his brother Rubber Butt...uh I mean Ross' head...

Funny entry, but I don't see any point worthy offenses...