caught in the crossfire backfire.

brittany blogged about her stinky boy...let me tell you about mine.

i have three. three stinky boys living under my roof. sometimes there is a stinky girl thrown into the mix {uh, that would be my mini-me...i'm a lady & ladies poot behind closed bathroom doors thankyouverymuch}. but, usually, the source of the stank can be pinpointed to one of three boys in our home: aidan, adam or frisco, le pup.

the flatulence fest ebbs & flows in our home. some nights are calm & the air smells so fresh and clean. other nights you need a gas mask & you often wonder why the rumbles and shakes haven't measured on the richter scale.

it's bad.

and the stink isn't always from the booty area. nor is it always audible {you know, silent, but deadly}. and, fortunately, the stink isn't always stinky {if that makes sense}.

boys are loud to begin with. even the dog is loud, but that's usually 'cause he's snoring. anyways, they talk loud, they laugh loud, they eat loud, they burp loud, they fart loud...loud, loud, loud.

where am i going with this {besides the fact that it's usually quite loud in our home and, more often than not, kinda stinky in here}?

i have three loud, stinky boys. loud because they can be & stinky because they think it's perfectly okay to 'let 'er rip!' thankfully, there is an occasional 'excuse me' following certain gas passing episodes. well, sometimes.

bottom line is, my boys honestly believe it is perfectly normal to sound like a machine gun firing off round after round sometimes. boys wouldn't be boys if they couldn't be stinky {and loud}. and, besides, aidan has a perfectly good explanation for why he is so loud & stinky sometimes:

"when i get a little nervous or excited, i backfire."

yes, son, you, your dad & the pup certainly do.

better out than in, i suppose.

my little man.

i'm talking about my little boy. he is six and, holy cow, he is such a little man. he can be a sweet, polite, chivalrous gentleman...but usually he's a goofy, stinky, aggravating kind of man. {aggravating in only the way a mother could understand & love.}

don't get me wrong. he's a sweet boy. he always has been. but, the bottom line is, my son is a man. seriously. i swear {and, other mothers out there who have boys, please correct me if i'm wrong} that from day one they really do act & behave like men by doing man-like things. for example:

hand...meet the penis. changing a diaper...his hand was there. potty training...his hand was there. watching t.v....his hand was there. sleeping...yes, sleeping...his hand was there. it even has a name. and, sadly, this trait seems to last into adulthood.

burping & farting at the dinner table is perfectly acceptable behavior. it is also behavior that he believes should be followed with ridiculous laughter rather than an 'excuse me.' {in my defense, my son does have manners...good ones at that...and he does say 'excuse me' immediately...or else.}

burping & farting anywhere is okay. the stinkier, the better.

it's okay to sit - whoa, i originally typed shit...whoops...well, that, too - on the toilet for long periods of time. when he gets older, he'll probably read the sports section of the newspaper like his dad, but for now he is happy playing his nintendo ds. in the bathroom. while on the toilet. gross. {thank goodness for lysol wipes.}

'boys rule, girls drool' is his motto...much to the dismay of his {older} sister. she may wear the pants in their relationship, but it's aidan's job to irritate to hell out of malia. but, if you ask her, she'll just tell you that 'boys go to jupiter to get more stupider.'

mess? what mess? honestly, boys {men, too} are oblivious to any & all trails of destruction that they leave behind. pile of laundry...next to the hamper. dirty cups & bowls...next to the sink. pee...on the toilet rather than in it. toothpaste chunks...in the sink. wet towels...on the floor or bed. toys...found everywhere but in the toy box.

what's wrong with jeans that are too short, no socks, the same shirt i wore yesterday & stinky shoes? this seems to be my son's favorite ensemble. i understand that it's quite possibly my fault that there is a pair of jeans in his drawer that can moonlight as capris, but i'm ok with him wearing them to play in...not to go to school in. fashion sense...a keen one at that...does not run on the male side of this family. clearly, the girls were the only ones blessed with that gift.

there's more, but i think you get the gist of it. he's a little man. a little, goofy, stinky, silly man. it is my hope that he will continue to be his happy-go-lucky self. and, even better, perhaps he will grow up to be a charming, marvelous & respectful man {he had better!}. and, maybe, just maybe some of his sister's fashion sense will rub off onto him.