How to Bridge a Wet Kitchen Floor and Other Lessons From Boys

I had just finished mopping the kitchen floor and told the boys not to walk on it while it was wet. I was in the laundry room sorting clothes. I came out and tiptoed quickly across the wet floor to get to the rug. I glanced over and saw two books, face down, on the wet kitchen floor at the base of the bonus room steps. The boys were in the the bonus room. I hollered up, "guys - why are there books on the wet floor?"

Brandon hollered down, "I didn't want to get my feet wet."

Silly me, I should have known to specify, "no book skating on the wet floor."

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Recent bedtime conversation -

Brandon: Mom, Hayden's playing in the bed.

Me: Hayden is my job. You worry about you.

Brandon: Hayden IS your job, but it's MY job to tell you he's playing in the bed.

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What a mom doesn't want to hear when she's using the bathroom and her boys are in the next room-

Brandon: Hayden, try this! You won't die! I promise!

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One day I had my hair in a pony tail (well, most days... okay every day... I have my hair in a pony tail). One afternoon, Brandon was being very snuggly and we were sitting on the couch together. As he rubbed on my hair, he pulled some of it out of the pony tail holder, and in his sweetest, sunggliest voice he said, "mom, you kinda look like a girl with your hair down like that."

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I'm trying to decide if I need to be more specific or if the boys need to be less literal. "Shut up" is a no-no in our house, so you'll get a kick out of this conversation:

Hayden: Shut!

Brandon: Mom, Hayden told me to shut up.

Hayden: I did not. I told him to shut.

Me: What did you mean by "shut?"

Hayden: I didn't mean shut up. I meant shut your mouth.

What can I say? The boy is smart. I'm thinking he'd make a great politician someday.

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I sat down on the couch the other night and Brandon was stading in front of me licking his hands. I don't mean just licking his hands, I mean sloppy, wet, spit soaking his hands. I asked him what he was doing and he just laughed. I was trying to say, "Stop doing that, the germs on your hands could make you sick," but before I could get it out, Hayden came running by. And quick like a lizard's tongue, Brandon reached out with his dripping wet hands and grabbed Hayden's face.

I was grossed out. Hayden and Brandon were laying on the floor in hysterics. Michael was in the chair in hysterics. I looked at Brandon, and again he was wetting his weapons. I looked at Michael and he said, "it's a boy thing."

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Here's the fun thing about having your child's birthday party a week after their actual birthday. They think they are in a week-long birthday celebration. I must have heard "but it's my birthday" twenty times during Hayden's "birthday week." Here's how it went down:

Monday -

Hayden: Can I have extra "sweets" today?
Me: No, two is plenty.
Hayden: (add whine here) But it's my birthday.

Tuesday -

Hayden: Can I get a toy today?
Me: No, you got toys on your birthday, and you'll get lots more at your party.
Hayden: (add whine here) But it's my birthday.

Wednesday -

Hayden: Can we go to McDonalds today?
Me: No, we went to McDonalds yesterday.
Hayden: (add whine here) But it's my birthday.

Thursday -

Hayden: Can I stay up all night tonight?
Me: No!
Hayden: (add whine here) But it's my birthday.

Okay, you get the picture.