Jordan came into our room Sunday night as we were unpacking from our weekend get away.
He was all hunched over and sort of groaning and grunting. I knew this was gonna be good the second I saw him.
Sure enough, he proclaimed: “my penis hurts.”
Whatever dude.
If you’ve followed this blog for more than a week, you know that a.) Jordan is all about shock factor and b.)he loves to throw around anatomically correct body part words to see if it gets anyone’s attention.
In fact last Friday night, as all three of my male offspring were crammed in that small hotel room bed, he must have said at least five times, “stop kicking me in the testicles!”
Whereas my other kids would (and did) use street vernacular, Jordan seems to somehow think that using the biological terms for things is going to shock me. After raising three boys for 16 years? Not a chance.
New flash, child: there are 4 of you and one of me.
There’s more uproar in this house if I ask one of them to grab my pink Victoria’s Secret Bra out of the dryer and hand it to me, than there would be over any discussion that included any variation of male body parts.
So there he was all hunched over, I thought, this ain’t the part you think it is kiddo, wrong area. Turn around and look in the mirror, that’s where you’re hurtin’. One cheeseburger too many.
He looked at me. I looked back. His obsession with throwing around “penis’s” and “testicles” has gotten out of control over the summer. He’s even used the O word , and no I don’t mean OPRAH.
Game on. I call your bluff, 12 year old.
“Fine, let me see it then” was the next thing about of my mouth. I don’t know where that came from.
Well hello there,that got his attention! Don’t think the penis was hurting quite as bad all of a sudden.
We looked at each other.
But then, at the last second, like the champion faker he is (and I am not,) he saw the look in my eyes and that little you-know-what realized I was bluffing (which I most certainly was.)
He started to drop his shorts.
It was me then that was up, out of that bed like I had a firecracker in my shorts.
“ROOOOOBBBBEERRRRTTTTTT” was the next thing out of my mouth, loud enough for the Robert who lives next door to hear. “GEEETTTTT IN HEREEEEEEEE!”
I turned to Jordan, looked him dead in the eye and said, “drop ‘em and die.”
I no more wanna see that on my twelve year old than he wants to do mouth-to-mouth on me, naked, if I inhale too much water in the bathtub and someone has to call 911.
I mean if he’s really hurt and Robert’s at work, well, Tyler is 16, he can look at him!
Robert came into the bedroom (my husband Robert, not my neighbor Robert), dragged Jordan’s skinny self in the bathroom and did a quick visual inspection.
Jordan came out of the bathroom, looked at me with that half-cocked grin he has and said, “guess I need to go use the restroom for awhile.”
He so totally set me up with that little incident.
That’s fine. Wait till he finds that pink bra in with his football pads when I wash them Sunday.
And I’m afraid I might have bred a champion strip poker player.
(P.S. Dad, if you’re reading this, he’s fine, I promise.)
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Tee Hee ~ reminds me of life growing up with three younger brothers!
Funny that you wrote this today. I just finished my blog post for today. The subject is the innocence of the body parts terms used at my house. Wonder when this will change?
Seriously what is wrong with the slang terms? They somehow make it all FAR MORE acceptable. I would way rather hear the word fart than flatulence. Don't know why, but it's more tolerable.
Twitter: ooph
I'm so glad I had a daughter instead of a son…and I'm really sure of it after reading that post!
Twitter: theredheadriter
Well, at least there are no monthly girl hormones? Surely there is a benefit there?
That is hilarious!! I’m a big fan of the slang – the technical terms kinda ick me out. Haha
Hannah´s last blog ..Always go for the gut … I mean with your gut.