Those sleeveless shirts, knobby knees and big muscled creatures up there.. those are my life blood, those are my world... the joy, the love, the humor and yet still makes me wonder why do I even bother doing my hair.
I can't recall how many times I hear... "Got tickets to the gun show" as the three older boys (combat boot cowboy included) give me their biggest muscle man faces and show off their pipes, at which that time baby RJ notices and holds his little arms up in the air not wanting to be left out of the macho display of manly muscles.
At this moment I'd like to stop and apologize for the what I hate to admit shows my yard to the east and what happens when it rains almost daily and you get behind on mowing...it quickly becomes a hay field.
Hay anyone? free for the taking just needs raked and baled. I can even provide some "gun show" tickets to help with the bales.
I love my boys all of them, but there are, I'm sorry to admit, moments when I think about, what if I didn't lift the toilet seat when I'm done. I know! I know! A few of you are re-reading that. Let me explain... In most houses the man gets yelled at for leaving the toilet seat up... NOT AT MY HOUSE. I am the only female...we have but one bathroom.... it is easier for me to remember to put the seat up when I'm done than for my little cowpokes to remember to lift it when they go, and then remember to put it back down, so if mommy needs to go in the middle of the night her butt doesn't fall into the freezing water leading to a yelp loud enough to scare the coyotes running through my back pasture. You see, easier for me to lift the seat than them to remember to lift and put back down.
How bout some interesting facts... Since I'm on the topic of boys.
Did you know it's possible for a child to burp the alphabet before he can even recognize what the letters are. Or that a 7 yr old can make fart sounds loud enough with his armpits that he can make a beagle pup jump a good 12 inches off the ground, when the pup is outside and he is in. Or how bout, when on a car trip... farting and burping on command is a sign of dominance and can lead to an all out war of who is the best and will continue for miles and miles until someone either almost pukes or passes out.
LOL, though I probably don't sound like it here, upon writing these tales of testosterone I'm grinning and even chuckling because this is my family, these are my boys, my babes, my love, my life and I wouldn't trade a moment of it for any girly pink bows, manicures and giggly gossip.
There is just something too special about building a heart out of mud, rocks and grass to show mommy just how much she is loved and knowing only the coolest tomboy mommy would understand how wonderfully special it is to find a tree frog or cricket that will stay in your pocket.
1 ½ cups of Patience 2 tablespoons of Elbow Grease 1 Pound of Courage 1¼ cups of Tolerance Dash of Adventure.
Marinate frequently with salty tears. Pour off excess fat and sprinkle ever so lightly with money. Knead dough until payday.Season with international spices. Baste with a lot of good memories and friendship. Bake for twenty years or longer until done.