Wednesday, January 20, 2010

If you are looking for my brain, it's over there in the gutter...

So, we're driving home from school the other day, and we happen to pass a guy walking along side the road. Coincidentally, it's the same stretch of road where last week I saw a guy (not the same one) walking along in freezing temperature, carrying a huge bouquet of red roses. (My subsequent Facebook posting about this guy prompted general consensus that he was a stalker, not the hopeless romantic I believed him to be.) But I digress...

As we approached the guy, I saw that he had his head bent over and his hands were fiddling with something in his waistline area. He was in the process of zipping up his jacket. I heard Jack and Charlie pipe up from the back of the van, distinctly catching Jack say, "Dude, that guy's p--..."

Now, I clearly heard up to the "p" sound, and jumped to the conclusion that Jack had finished that sentence, "...playin' with himself." And, really? If you only glanced up at him, it actually might appear so -- if you're 10 years old and have a finely honed sense of "boy humor."

In mock exasperation, I said, "Jack... the guy's not 'playing with himself"... he's just zipping his jacket."

Immediately, gales of laughter erupt from the boys.

Jack says, "Mom, I said, 'that guy's pimpin'.... but 'playing with himself' works too!'" And more laughter ensues.

Nice. I spend a fair amount of time trying to keep their boy brains out of the gutter, and where do I end up?

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