Yesterday, I was standing outside in the front walkway, waiting for my husband to come home from work.
I do that sometimes, because I miss him all day long and by the time 4 o’clock rolls around, I can not WAIT to see him and kiss his grubby face.
So, I’m standing out there, waiting and my oldest son, Andrew, walks out to talk to me. As he’s talking, I am drawn to his upper lip.
“Could it be?” I think to myself as I lean in a little closer.
“OH MY GOD, IT IS!”
He’s talking and I don’t hear a word he’s saying.
I interrupt him.
“ANDREW JOSIAH, YOU ARE GROWING A MUSTACHE. DID YOU KNOW THAT?”
“No I’m not!”
“Yes, you are. OH MY GOD.”
My son has A FUZZSTACHE!
As soon as Tony pulled up, I grabbed him by the arm and said “Look at Andrew’s lip and tell me if you see what I see.”
He looked. Closer.
“HA! He’s starting to grow a little mustache.”
“CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? OUR BABY HAS FACIAL HAIR!”
I suppose I shouldn’t be so shocked, considering he’s had Hairy balls since 2002.
But I am. Totally shocked, happy, excited because MY BOY IS GROWING UP! Sad, because MY BOY IS GROWING UP!
I was obsessed with it all night.
“How’s your ‘stache?”
“Stop it mom.”
“Hey, mom, do you know what my friend said while we were playing basketball yesterday?”
“Um, nice stache?”
“MOM!”
That’s all I talked about all night.
His Fuzzstache.
Because that’s a really big deal. I can’t get over it. I want to take a picture of it, but he won’t let me. Something about it being “embarassing”. Whatever.
The truth is, the older he gets, the more I respect his “privacy”. I don’t write a lot of things I want to write about him on here anymore (except to mention HAIRY BALLS EVERY CHANCE I GET) because I feel akward doing it now that he’s entering his “Teens.”
That’s right, in less than 2 months, “First baby will be thirteen years old.
And he will have the facial hair to prove it.

I’m exhausted.
And what is one to do when they are mentally exhausted?
Bust out the Coconut Parrot Bay, that’s what.
The boys begged me to let them spend the night at a neighbors house tonight. I didn’t want to let them at first, but I am so damn exhausted, I said “YES!”
At first, Tony was pissed off that I said yes, then, IT CLICKED.
“No boys.” “Rum.” “She’s not wearing a bra.” “I’m horny.” “Penis.” “Vagina.”
Next thing you know, he was all “Have fun boys!” and “Can I get that rum and coke started for ya, baby?”
See, we both get a little too excited when we get a night without the boys because having sex with growing boys in the house is dangerous business. Especially now that one of them has taken The Puberty Classes and knows what Mommies and Daddies do. So, when they’re not here, it’s like NAKED PARTY FOR TWO IN THE BEDROOM.
When the boys were a bit younger, we used to joke about tying cow bells to Andrew’s ankles because I SWEAR TO GOD, every damn time we’d get our groove on, we’d hear him crawl out of bed and we’d have to jump into the “Fake Sleeping” position whilst pulling up our pants to avoid getting caught.
We’d be like “CAN HE SMELL THE SEX? WHAT THE HELL? COWBELLS FOR HIM!’
(this is the part where the “coconut” is kicking in, so, um, keep that in mind.)
We were always careful to shut the door and to be very quiet.
But there was this one night….
Tony wanted to Do It. And I was like “Let’s!” And so, the clothes came off, the bodies started touching and next thing you know, we were Full on Boinking. ON A WEEK NIGHT! Because we are Fuh-reekay, like that.
Anyway.
I don’t want to get too graphic here because there are certain people named MELLY who get all grossed out when I even MENTION having The Sex with PigHunter, but, um, he was “on top” Gettin’ Jiggy Wit’ It and all of a sudden, he STOPPED.
Then he looked at me. Then, he looked to see where my hands were.
To his HORROR they were NOT touching his ass.
Next thing I know is I hear my son’s very sweet voice uttering the following words.
“hehehe, I’m touching your booty butt, daddy.”
He rolled off of me, I pulled the covers over my Lovely Lady Lumps and um, he pulled the covers over his “booty butt” and we both just layed there wondering what to say to this sweet, innocent little 4 year old who had just squeezed his fathers NAKED, CAUGHT IN THE ACT OF THE BUMP AND GRIND A-S-S.
He laughed again, “hehehe…I saw your naked butt, daddy!”
“Yes, you did. Why did you get up from bed?”
“I was thirsty. heheh BOOTY BUTT.”
We realized he had NO CLUE what he had just, uh, “stumbled upon” and so we said as little as possible, perhaps something about “Wrestling” and sent him back to his bed.
He never mentioned another word about it, and NEITHER DID WE.
Moral of this story?
NEVER DO IT WITH THE DOOR UNL0CKED and if you must?? (because your husband keeps “forgetting” to buy a new door knob with a lock on it because “he can hear them when they get up, so don’t worry and GET NAKED, WOMAN.) COWBELLS, people.
Cowbells.