My son is coming up with his own testicle jokes now. He'll be 13 in the spring. It hit me this summer that I can actually almost wear some of his clothes.Any day now I'm going to have to look up at him to see his gorgeous face. This summer he crossed over forever into the menswear department,no more boy's size clothes or shoes. WTF happened to the time? While I was slogging through all the day to day hell with this kid(his first few years were really HARD.Once we figured out that he is autistic,life got lots easier because we learned how to handle things)it seemed like forever.In retrospect,the time has flown. Holy Crap. Holy FREAKING Crap.
Anyhoo,onto the testicle joke and enough of my parental anxiety.
My son's dentist has a big gumball machine next to the receptionist's desk. Instead of gumballs,the thing is filled with those little hard rubber balls that bounce really high when you fling them against any hard surface. When a kid gets done with their appt,they go to the front desk and ask for a quarter for the machine.We must have at least 2 dozen of those little balls around the house and in the yard and the pool.Not counting all the ones I've thrown away because they've been used to annoy the snot out of me.
On this particular dentist appt day(Atilla had reconstructive dentistry this summer,we had many appts),the kiddo got two balls when he put his quarter in the machine.You see where this is going don't you?
So we're driving home and Atilla is trying to juggle in the car.I told him to knock it off until we got home,he was elbowing me and stuff. I have one car rule(well,two,seatbelts are the other one),Don't Fuck with the Driver.Especially when it's me driving.
Off in my peripheral vision I see the kid look straight at me and he says:
"What's the matter Mom?Shouldn't I be PLAYING WITH MY BALLS in the car? I guess I'll have to put MY BALLS away until I get home,then I can BE ALONE WITH MY BALLS,in my room?Is that what you're saying Mom?"
Smartass. Common Parental Wisdom(tm) says you shouldn't laugh at this stuff because it only reinforces and encourages it. But funny is funny. My boy's first testicle joke(to me at least),is there a Hallmark Card for that milestone? Ahh,those Mother/Son moments...(((she sighs,wistfully)))
Because of this,and more incidents like it than I can count,I've come to think that men have two main life stages after childhood.
Stage one starts at the early teens and ends sometime around age 30. At this point,men are quite similar to year old black lab or golden retriever pups. Goofy,rather clumsy and a bit(or alot)awkward,full of piss and vinegar and boundless energy,rarely serious,and have a need to be paid attention to,except when they're sleeping. They always seem to be hungry too. Usually they're cute enough that you can't stay mad at them for long. Usually.
Stage two is Bears With Furniture*(and pants,sometimes,if you're lucky). Bears With Furniture tend to do lots of scratching,farting,and have stomachs that make noises that have no business coming from mammals. Don't even get me started on various odors they leave around the house. Alot of them like reclining chairs and remote controlled anything. Their hobbies tend to be either loud or expensive,or both. But they are cuddly, which kind of makes up for messy and goofy.Sometimes.
I have one of each and no female backup. One thing I've learned is to pick my battles to preserve my sanity.But even then there are times where my grip is tenuous at best. Let's just say a lesser woman would have either run for the hills screaming,never to return,OR,she'd be drinking,heavily. That I've resorted to neither(though both have crossed my mind,alot)means I'm either brave or crazy,I haven't decided which.
*Bears With Furniture I believe came from a comedy bit by Rita Rudner.Who,if I remember correctly,was a comic from NYC.Is she still around?She was kinda funny,never really made it too big though.