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"Wow, what happened?" Not a good sign to have to ask that right after pulling back the covers-cocoon of your 9 year old son.
"Well Mom, After you left last night I jammed my finger."
"Yes, but your lip is enormous? I've never actually seen a fat lip until now."
"After I jammed my finger I figured out I had a bruise on my leg and arm."
"O.k...?"
"Then I was holding onto brother's arms. When he let go I flipped over the sofa and luckily didn't hit the piano, just my knee."
"What did you hit your knee on?"
"My lip. [of course, silly me] Then I was doing handstands and hit my back on a chair. That's when Dad said to sit down."
The 5 year piped up at this point, "Yeah Mom, we really need to get rid of the piano, it's kinda dangerous."
And that is my definition of Boys.
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2 comments:
My husband likes to quote something he read somewhere: Boy--noise with dirt on it.
I think it's pretty funny, and becoming more and more accurate of my own little boy!
BAHAHAHAHAHA!
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