Nay, we are but men. Rock!

I know my last post was a little off the beaten path for this blog so I decided to offer a little ditty that is more in line with what I normally put out there.  Last night I was giving my sons a bath.  II like doing bath time because they are to the point where they actually play together instead of just occupying the same general space.  This time of year is probably the busiest season I have and put on top of that all of my family issues I have very little energy.  So the boys were playing and I was staring off into space and focusing on absolutely nothing.  Then from off in the distance I hear my oldest son screaming, “Ahhhh!!!!! Ahhhh!!!!! Noo!!! Phineas no!!!!!”  I came out of my trance and looked over to the bathtub where I saw my youngest son pulling with a double-fisted vigor that said, “Now who’s in charge chump” on my oldest son’s penis.  My youngest was having the time of his life and laughing hysterically while my oldest was, needless to say, not.  He was flailing around like an uncoordinated stork doing the Macarena at top speed.  

I was stuck somewhere between complete levity due to the poetic justice of the situation and pure revulsion at how far a three-year-old’s penis can stretch.  I opted to take the humanitarian approach and release my oldest from the Hungarian penis torture that was my youngest son’s fists.  I really do think they love each other.