The title of this post is a direct quote from my 7-year old son from last night. He is quite enamored with his male genitalia. I know I covered this topic a few posts back, but it is an issue that just won't die in my household. He even asked me, "Why does it feel so good to scratch my balls?" I was like, "Kid, I am not qualified to answer that." I repeated my son's question to my husband but he was busy on the computer and basically just gave me that standard leave-me-alone answer of, "I don't know". So I texted David, my friend of 30 years:
I sent this text to David while out shopping with my son last weekend:
What's funny is that my son had been quietly playing with the iPad in the shopping cart and for whatever reason felt the need to make that proclamation. It was completely out of the blue. These kinds of things don't generally happen in everyday life. I've never been at a meeting where a male co-worker suddenly felt a need to blurt out, "Penises are the best!". But honestly, wouldn't that be the best meeting ever? I'm pretty sure I would fall out of my chair laughing. And everyone would be unsure if they should look at Mr. Penis Man or the hysterical woman on the floor. I apologize to my male readers because now I may have implanted a suggestion in your brain. You'll be in the midst of a boring meeting and think, "What if I just suddenly stand up and yell 'DICKS ARE AWESOME!'". Oh God. What if I now have that same compulsion? Seriously, this could be a problem. I blame my son. If it wasn't for his incessant chatter about his wiener, I would have never thought of this.
I guess I shouldn't be too hard on my kid. His default personality is "ridiculously happy". I've been kind of blue since getting the news about Alexei (see two posts back). It's hard to be sad around someone who continuously makes you laugh. Now that I think about it, maybe I should loan my son out to families who are grieving. His antics and constant questions would help take their mind off their loss. Because seriously, how could you be sad around someone who looks and acts like this:
I took this photo Wednesday night. He wanted me to dance with him but I just didn't have the heart to do so. Last night, Thursday, he again harassed me to dance with him (we dance to the music video channels on TV). This time I danced a little bit and it made me feel better. He's turning out to be cheaper and more effective than drugs and therapy. God I love that kid. Contact me for pricing if you too need help mending a broken heart or just need cheering up in general. I'm sure we can work something out. (Note to child protective services-- JUST KIDDING! This is a humor blog. Please don't start an investigation).
I'm the worst kind of asshole-- I think I'm funny.
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