Love Story…a boy and his winkie

My wife was one of 4 girls growing up…in her adulthood, she’s been “blessed” with a husband and 2 boys, who, by all accounts, are confirmed dirtbags. Quick clarification – “dirtbag” is the kid who has two skinned knees, probably has his shirt on backwards, pees outside whenever it suits him (and when doesn’t it suit us?), and has a propensity to adopt lizards as house guests; these are boys that you never dress for church until you’re walking out the door; boys who try to blow their God-awful flatulence in your direction and who may or may not have changed underwear in 3 days. Who wouldn’t want to be a little boy?  Ever the trooper, my wife quickly assimilated to “boy Mom,” and outside of an irrational fear of bugs, can knock around with the best of ’em.

This did not, however, prepare her for the fascination her young boys would have with their tally-wackers. Whatever women know about men & their actions after puberty hits, I don’t think there’s a true appreciation for the absolute fascination boys have with their ding-a-lings ~ its a magical, lifelong love-story that starts about the time they are able to stand up in the tub.

Sometimes it’s a little puppet to speak with, sharing the days events. Sometimes it’s a periscope, cutting through the bubble bath. Sometimes it’s just something to do with your hands while watching the tube. Always it’s a source of hilarity…dancing, tucking, prodding, poking – never has naked been so fun. My youngest, who has a prostate like a fire hydrant, is prone to standing outside, hands on hips, putting to shame every sprinkler in the neighborhood. Good times! My oldest once had the misfortune of experimenting with a panty liner and the insane adhesive that tends to cause great discomfort when removed from skin ~ he held us at bay for 10 minutes with a golf club before we could get that booger off. Another time he decided to see what happened when he placed a magnet on either side of his wee willy…that was a free lesson in magnetic force.

Ironic that this little buddy will become such a source of idiot behavior, bad decision-making, ill-advised Tweets, and the horrifying moment when group showers become a part of athletics.

But for now, pee-wee is a harmless source of entertainment and self-awareness. Enjoy the innocence Mom(s), because the teenage years will be much, much, different.


3 thoughts on “Love Story…a boy and his winkie

  1. “Appreciation” is a strong word to use in this instance. I liked to make my ex-husband’s talk and make its little mouth move. I think I cracked up more than he did, especially when it would do a Rodney Dangerfield impersonation. “No respect…”

    Thank you for sharing this. I think.

  2. WE gave our their first camera once Christmas and within an hours we found them cracking up shoving it down their pants taking pictures. I am convinced I will be that poor mom on “Jacka$$” that has fireworks going off in her bedroom in the middle of the night. Thanks for reading my blog. BTW, I have a pic of my twins first outdoor pee while on vacation at San Diego Wild Animal Park on Bird of Paradise. Lord help us. 😉

  3. We are pretty fond of these things, not to mention quite attached. Maybe we should do as the greeks did to celebrate its power by sculpting monuments and construction materials in its likeness. I can picture it now, all of the support pillars of my house in perfect form of my winkie. Could be a good way to drive traffic to a blog site by using the pillars as colorful advertising… I’d have to ask my wife though. She might say OK if we can build a swimming pool to celebrate the opposite sex.

    I think I’m rambling. Great post.


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