the many facets of the penis

When your penis itches

by Shauna on November 3, 2009

I have totally failed in the serving the family dinner department lately. Not that we’ve ever lived a sort of traditional family life (meaning my big strong husband goes to work while I stay home and roll socks into balls). No. It’s always been like an accidental phenomenon if I prepared a meal and served it at just what so happened to also be dinnertime.

I am progressive that way.

But sometimes, I feel a little guilty for not being that traditional kind of mom. But not guilty enough to change. That’s my tragedy. Or the part that makes me a genius.

So, because sometimes the guilt gets the better of me, this afternoon I laid out chicken breasts, broccolini, and stuff to make a salad. Very June Cleaverish if I do say so myself.

But then Tommy had a few errands to run and took the kids with him. Minutes later, he called to say he had accidentally driven by a McDonald’s and that the kids wanted that for dinner. Did I mind?

Did I mind?

Um….was this a trick question?

I ran to the kitchen, threw all the stupid healthy home cooked ingredients back in the fridge and said, “Heck yeah that’s fine! I’ll take a filet-o-fish.”

Because really? Nothing says American Family like Mickey D’s.

Fifteen minutes later, in walked the members of said American Family with bags of yummy smelling food—which included but was not limited to french fries and chocolate shakes.

And it was goooooood.

Note to self: Tomorrow when you’re standing in front of the mirror in your birthday suit weeping about your current physique, remember this moment. The moment where you looked at that fish sandwich in all its tartar saucy squareness and said, “Come to Mama.” And then proceeded to inhale it. Remember this.

So after the high of the french fries wore off, I went to the bathroom to wash off the day. Ethan knocked on the door a minute later, announcing he had to go potty. I opened the door to find him standing there, scratching his penis with his chicken nugget. I *wish* I could make this shit up.

My first thought was Holy Shit, This Is Awesome Gross.

And then I tweeted it (Because that’s what really disturbed people do—don’t judge me)
Picture 5

And then? I let him eat it.

So it turns out I’m not *that* mom, but THAT mom.

But don’t forget that I totally get credit for my original plan to cook dinner–pre McDonald’s. So… basically, it’s a wash, right?

Right?

Hey! I’m also at Aiming Low today. Click here to read about how Hanna Montana tried to kill me.

{ 21 comments }

the talk

by Shauna on September 3, 2008

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.

{ 11 comments }