Another scene you don't anticipate until you have a house full of boys:
Eli and Isaac are in the tub. I have washed Isaac, and now they are squirming past one another so Eli can get on deck for his scrub-down. "Ouch!" Eli squeals.
"What's the problem?"
"He stepped on my pee-pee!"
"Well, if you had been moving over like I told you to do, instead of just sitting there, it might not have gotten stepped on. Isaac, apologize for stepping on Eli's pee-pee."
Isaac gets a big I'm-really-not-sorry-at-all look on his face. "Sorry for steppin' on your wiener."
He may have heard that alternate word from me. I'm not going to confirm or deny this. I'll just say that the person who introduced that anatomical pseudonym to our household is a comic genius, because it never fails to elicit giggles from all the males in earshot, while making the poor woman in our house roll her eyes. Giggling, predictably, ensues. The trampled pee-pee is forgotten.
This morning I woke to a Johnny Cash mood. I slipped into my black slacks and fitted white shirt, eased on my uber-trendy polished black shoes, shrugged into my black leather jacket, popped some sleek black sunnies on my face, and strolled out to my truck. I fired the engine and pushed in my Folsom Prison CD.
I was slick, I was bad, I was the dangerous beating heart of cool. I flicked on the windshield wipers. They skidded across a thin sheen of ice.
I don't care who you are, or how you're dressed there's just no way to look cool when you're standing on tippy-toes with a bright blue window scraper in your hand, struggling to clear the center part of your windshield. I wonder if Johnny Cash ever had to clean his windshield.
And we went to the pumpkin patch this weekend, so you just know a post on that will bubble up here soon.
Finally, men from a handful of churches in the Kansas City region are convening this weekend to talk about the obligations and challenges of leading their families, and they've invited me to talk about raising boys. I feel a little bit like a McDonald's fry cook speaking to a culinary convention, but that's my issue, not yours. The point is that Todd Jones, the event organizer, tells me the men among my scores of fans are welcome to attend. I'll be speaking from 9:45 - 10:45 Saturday morning, October 27. Just click here to tell Todd you'd like to join us, and he'll get you squared away.