All Is Forgiven.

You were a whiny little bugger jigger today, but after 5 minutes of watching you play hide and seek with The Hero, I’m holding no grudges.

Boys Rule

   Overheard.

Prairie Poppet; “Girls rule.” 

Me; “What?”

Prairie Poppet; “Girl’s rule!”

Me; “And where is this coming from?” (My kids are relatively sheltered from shallow pop culture lingo making this a valid question he heh)

Prairie Poppet; “Her shirt.”  Pointing to Prairie Girl’s new sweatshirt, a hand me down from a friend at church.

Indeed, that is what the shirt had to say.  I toy with saying something, and don’t.

There is never an absence of words in this house though and conversations are not prone to die quickly. 

Prairie Hero (5) pipes up between mouthfuls; “BOYS rule.” 

And we enter into one of those 6 part repetitive, argumentative, bantering exchanges that are so predictable between 5 and 7 year olds. 

I interrupted with; “Hold on a minute.  Let’s think about this carefully.  Who rules?” 

Prairie Girl (9) is primed and ready.  “God rules.”  Ah.  We’ve raised that girl well.  No idea where we went wrong with the ones that followed but…. (joking!)

Wait for it now, because The Hero didn’t miss a beat.  Without hesitation he retorts.  “Yeah.  That’s what I mean.  God’s a boy, so boys rule.” 

Don't CRUSH those....

Wrestling around with your little brother on the floor yesterday I hear you "oomph" and call out "Watch my crush!"

And therein begins the tale of you trying to keep your first boy secret from me. Apparently B-Boy had told you a new word. When I asked you, perplexed, what you were referring to, you went deadpan right away and I saw your Adam's apple do a doubletake.

"Oh yeah. I forgot. That's a word for boy ears only." you informed me.

"Oh really? Well, I don't think there are any words that five year old boys should be saying that Mommies shouldn't be hearing."

"Okay."

"So what was the word, anyway?" (bad of me I know, but my curiosity had the better of me).

"No, Mommy. I really can't tell you."

"Oh come on. You can."

Embarassed giggle. "No, Mommy. I *really* can't."

*The Look* from me.

"Al-right...." blush, blush, giggle, giggle.

"THIS...." pointing at your groin... "is a CRUSH."

Snicker from me. "A crotch?"

Blank stare, then a lightbulb. "Oh yeah. That's it."

"Yeah... that's it."