So I was standing in my closet, getting dressed for the day.

I pulled on my favorite pair of jeans and noticed they were tight. Like too tight to button. And naturally I convinced myself that I couldn’t button them because they had just been washed. You know, cuz jeans totally shrink when you dry them. I mean, it couldn’t have *anything* to do with the amount of calories I took in last week versus how many I put out.

That would be ridiculous.

And involves some form of math and we all know I’m terrible at math. But I’m pretty sure the results would be astoundingly depressing.

Anyway, I finally managed to get them fastened, then proceeded to do the whole bend and stretch routine to loosen them up a bit.

And that’s when I blew out the whole crotch. In rock star fashion.

Behold. The jeans that used to not be ripped in the crotch.

Just then Ethan walked in right as I was bent over, observing the damage.

He shook his head and said, “You’re going to need a really big band-aid.”

Agitated with myself, I unbuttoned my jeans, kicked them off, and threw them across the closet. They landed in the corner with a sad little thud.

Ethan watched in awe as I threw a mini tantrum.

He looked at the jeans and then back at me. “What’s the matter, Mama?”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong. I’m too fat for my clothes right now. I ate too much last week.”

He looked at my half naked body and said, “You’re not fat, Mommy.”

I managed a smile. I mean he *is* the most adorable little man on the planet. “Thanks for saying that, E. You really don’t think I’m fat?”

“Well, maybe just a little bit.”

And then he ran out of the closet.

For sale: One adorable little boy who *may* or *may not* fully grasp the art of lying flattery.

PS. I would never eat a sandwich that my dog made me because I know for sure that he eats his own shit. What, you really think I’d eat something a *dog* made? I bet you think I’d eat out of the trash can too, huh. Oh, wait.

ethan: “mama, i got a penis.”

me: “you do indeed.”

ethan: “you got a penis?”

me: “no, mommy’s a girl and girls generally don’t have penises. except for if that girl is born a ‘girl’ physically, but feels like a boy inside–then THAT girl might have a penis added to her person–if she has a lot of money and a supportive family. although, the support of your family is not required to get a penis attachment–it would just make the transition easier for the girl who feels like a boy. you understand?

ethan: “you got a penis?”

me: “yes. i have a penis.”

ethan: “no. mommy no have penis. mommy have big butt.”

me: “is that right? well you’re adopted. how you like them apples?”

ethan: “i no like apples. i like gwapes.”

me: “ah.”

ethan: “you got a penis?”

me: “yes, i have two of them.”

ethan: “i want a see.”

me: “not now. mommy’s penis is asleep.”

ethan: “you no have penis. you have big butt. 2 big butts.” and he adds dimension to his insult by holding up 5 fingers. passive aggressive behavior? i think yes.

i get up from the table and pick up the phone to dial 4-1-1. ethan gets up from the table and farts. and then starts laughing and farts again. i roll my eyes like i’m totally disgusted. but secretly, i adore his farts. his farts are the cutest sounding noises i’ve ever heard. but i digress. i’m supposed to be irritated. i must keep in mind this sweet little farthead just told me i had 2 big butts.

operator: “city and state, please.”

me: “fort worth, texas.”

operator: “go ahead.”

me: “i need the name of the closest orphanage.”

operator (sounding confused): “ma’am, there are no orphanages in fort worth that i’m showing.”

me: “hmm. well, who do you give your kids to when they tell you you have a big butt–repeatedly.”

operator (without missing a beat): “you walk right up to the dad and punch him in the mouth. you know it’s somehow his fault.”

and then she starts laughing.

interesting. why hadn’t i thought of that before? blame tommy. why, it’s brilliant!

wow. information really IS helpful.