Words of Wisdom

Last evening, I walked into the dining room and interrupted a long standing ritual between my husband and my eldest son. It's certainly not the worst thing in the world, but this particular ritual I could live without. It bothers me on several levels, but mostly it's visceral. The boys apparently get a very big kick out of removing the belly button lint out of their dad's navel...

This has been going on for a while. I don't know when it started, but I suspect it had been going on for some time before I became aware. The testosterone faction of the clan knows how eeewwwwy I find some of their male bonding activities, and they try to spare me for the most part. And I can live with that.

Unfortunately for me, this time I stepped right into the middle of this age-old tradition. (Well, age-old to a seven year old...)

And this time, they caught me making my 'I can't believe I share a house and toilet with these heathens' face. I tried to stop it, but it all happened so fast. You try keeping your nostrils from flaring, your lips from twisting all funny and your tongue from sticking out at the same time you try to keep gagging noises from popping out of your mouth. It's HARD! That's a lot of concentrating!

I reacted, and instead of getting annoyed with me like they usually do when I interrupt these bizarre rituals, Big Guy turned to me and said in the voice of a Jedi master, "Mom. You have to understand the joy of the fuzz."

And then he wandered off.

So today, with all the chaos and chores and rushing around, I leave you with this. Stop what you are doing, take a deep breath, and take a moment to understand the joy of the fuzz.

Whatever that means.