Boys Will Be Boys

I'm not sure which is the greater indicator of my immaturity in relation to the following conversation:

A. That my words began the conversation

B. That I find what was said incredibly funny or

C. That I am unable to type the anatomically correct word that makes the story funny

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My guess is that the answer is D, All of the above

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Anyhow, anyone that has three kids, and has gone through the time where at least one or all of them are small can understand the difficulty making it out the door sometimes poses. Such is the time of my life. We don't have all that many places to go, but when we do, it is always a trial of sorts and one that, today, I did not handle all that well. Chloe had preschool today and in trying to get out the door and into the car, I encountered a little girl who did not want to wear her boots, but also didn't want to wear any other shoe option, a little boy who wouldn't walk out the door without his blue Lightening McQueen (which was no where to be seen), and an even littler boy who, after going a week without a car seat ride, didn't want to start today.

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Five minutes late already, frustrated, and finally to the car, I told Chloe that she needed to get herself buckled and move her toys so that I could latch Adam's car seat into his base. At the same time that Chloe started arguing with me about having no place else to put her things, Adam started up the crying and some (easily put back in place) rubber edging came off the door frame. Having reached my limit, I swore...well my Utah version of swearing, which really I'm not even thinking of the swear words my phrase is replacing, but even with the rationalization is still not something I necessarily want my kids to hear or repeat regularly. Curious as to what I said? Picturing me in the chaos described above, try not to be disappointed when you read...

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"Freaking A" (I know, right?)

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Immediately Noah (who we have recently had to have discussions with regarding the anatomical differences between girls and boys) looked at me and said:

"Freaking P*&!s" (replace male anatomy word here - see so immature I can't even type it)

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Shocked, Chloe (who is the second mom and thinks everything Noah says is bad) said:

"Noah, you can't say that word!"

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To which Noah shrugged and matter of factly replied:

"What? Boys have p*&!ses"

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Indeed this is true and with that comment my little man proved in that moment to be more mature than his mom, giving me a laugh on a crazy Friday afternoon.