Boy Stuff

We celebrated Thanksgiving at my in-laws' this year. We brought Kiah, who spent the majority of the day wrestling with my in-laws’ 10-month old puppy, Bonnie, who is at least 4 times Kiah’s size. John’s brother and wife brought their 2-year old Lhasa Apso, Luna, who was disgusted by the rumpus and spent her time engaging in what she obviously deemed more appropriate behavior: namely, snuggling with Ella.

Every year, my father-in-law the pastor has everyone around the table express what they were thankful to God for in the past year. Which always sends me into a panic. Although I have all year to think of something really meaningful to share, something original instead of the usual “my kids” or “my husband” or “the glorious roof over my head, when the time comes I can only conjure up common Thanksgiving clichés.

I like hearing what everyone else is thankful for, anyway. I wish they’d skip me and just let me listen. My father-in-law was last to go, which is good, because his stories never fail to make my eyes all watery. In the midst of his thankfulness, and right before I had a full-blown emotional breakdown, Daniel walked out of the bathroom with his pants around his ankles, strumming his pint sized tallywacker like a guitar. As he stood there grinning at everyone, Bonnie ran up behind him and started licking his butt.

Mayhem commenced, accompanied by some gasping, and someone quickly rectified the situation (pun totally intended) so we could go back to being thankful.

Occurrences like these no longer surprise me, though I pretend to be aghast. Sometimes I say things like, “He never normally does things like this!” But he does. Daily. And he knows how to pull his own pants up. He’s just lazy and likes me to do it for him.

Daniel is extremely fond of his penis. I’m kind of sorry he knows the word penis; it was less awkward when he called it his pee-pee. For instance, last week, he walked out of the bathroom, pants around his ankles, and declared, “I LOVE MY PENIS!”

“Well, I’m happy for you two,” I said. “Now pull up your pants.”

Yesterday, he came out of the bathroom completely naked from the waste down. He sat down and looked at me, intently.

“Someday,” he said, “my penis will be this big.” He held his arm out a good foot in front of his, um, pee-pee.

“Really?” I said.

“In a little while,” he responded.

Dream big, buddy.

Daniel doesn’t hold back. He is the most uninhibited human being I’ve ever met. He tells me in his garbled speech exactly what he’s thinking and feeling. And his moods run the gamut:

“Mom. I. Mad. AT YOU!”

“I looove you mom. And you really love me.”

Apparently, the school district thinks Daniel is 65% intelligible. In fact, the speech therapist, who is always pragmatic, was impressed by how clearly he said the word “penis.” (She happened to be there during the declaration of love. So horrifying.)

“Very nice word, Daniel!” And then they commenced in labeling other body parts- you know, the ones you can say without turning red like a turnip. Or maybe that’s just me. With three candid and carefree boys whose daily dinner banter generally involves fart jokes and speculations about what would happen if you were caught in a river of lava, I no longer blush or cringe as often as I used to.

Anyway, the good news is that Daniel is about to graduate from speech therapy! He is a great success! He is currently booking speaking engagements into 2011. He’s promised me he will keep his pants on during his lectures.

We are very proud.