A Mother’s Day post

Are you raising a boy? Did he wear your crotch as the world’s tightest sombrero while you labored to birth him for three #$%#ing hours?

If you answered yes to either question, then my condolences. You’ve already played Chromosomal Roulette and lost. I know, I played too. And let me assure you it’s a lifelong punch to the ovaries.

Gone are the dreams of pink ruffles and sequined lace, wrapped all pretty with a shiny ribbon. Sure, you ordered another double X, but that inbred stork delivered a big, bold Y.

Not to worry, I shot that bastard out of the sky.

It seems harsh, I know, but I tell you this out of love, to prepare you for the stark reality of boy raising. Believe me, it’s better to start this adventure armed.

You have a boy. He has a penis.

Catching on yet?

Take this scenario–> It’s Mother’s Day. Your children have made you breakfast, given you gifts, and after many hugs and kisses, raced outside to play, leaving you to sip the remainder of your coffee in peace.

It’s perfect.



And then…

Your husband glances out the window, goes bug-eyed and squawks, “he’s got his dick out there!”

After another calm sip of coffee, you nod your head. “Yes, dear, he usually has his dick when in here too. What’s the upset?”

“No, I mean he has his dick out, out there!”

Ohhh. Totally different sentence, y’all. This is why annunciation is key in communicating. I heard, “The male child is in possession of his penis while out of doors.”

Which I must state, seems appropriate. I keep my stuff with me at all times.

What he meant was, “The GD kid is brandishing his pecker like a two inch whip at anything not running away in fullblown, unadulterated terror.” And if he catches it, he urinates on it (urinate is a polite euphemism for piss himself empty–I’m keeping it classy for you).

Well, that’s a big @#$%ing problem. Before you turn your contemptuous gaze my way, know this–I don’t have a penis, thus didn’t teach him the dick-whip. However, my friend has a farm and we visit often so the kids can play together. Once, when said male child had to pee, my friend said, “Just go outside. My son does it all the time.”

Ah hell.

I’ve explained the difference between an emergency pee on a tree and watering the neighbors dog, and yet, here we are. Still, aside from my son’s flesh flash, it was a great Mother’s Day.

How was yours?


9 thoughts on “A Mother’s Day post

  1. I am so glad I had girls. Although, I do have to watch my husband if I don’t want him “whipping it out outside.” You’d think he’d know better, having grown up in town, but from the moment he met me, a country girl, he’s taken advantage of the whole peeing on a tree scenario. And having girls, I had to explain to them why daddy got to stand and they had to sit. They did not think that was fair at all. And as for your 3 &$^@*)% hours of labor..bite me. My first time at the vagina-stretching rodeo, I was in labor for 11.5 hours! The second time, I was in labor on and off for about 6 weeks- 10 weeks early. Then still 2 weeks out, my water broke and the kid decided to be stubborn and stay where she was. The doctor then had to induce labor. And let me tell you what a fun time that was. NOT! I was in transition for 2.5 hours after about 9 hours of regular labor for another 11.5 hours. But at least the second time I only pushed twice. The first time? I pushed for almost 2 hours. Child birth is not fun and I was an idiot who tried it without drugs not once, but twice! There must have been something seriously wrong with me. lol!

    Happy Mother’s Day, CP!

    • Yeah, guys have it so much easier with the I-can-pee-anywhere attachment. Bastards. lol. Whoa! Let me clarify, I was pushing for 3 hours with this damn kid! My labor was induced at 7am. He didn’t come out until 5:30, the stubborn little snot! He’s worth it though. Me loves my boy. Thanks for commenting, CP!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s