Just a phase...

It's all just a phase. It will pass.

At least that's what I tell myself.

Each phase really does pass. Eventually.

Unfortunately, it's soon replaced by a new phase, which is often worse than the last phase.

Right now, N is in the "I know more than you do" phase. She's only seven. She doesn't really know more than we do. About most things. But she thinks she does. I know that this, too, will come to end. Sometime before she's thirty.

Maybe.

O is in the "I'm going to repeat everything you say" phase. Sometimes this is incredibly cute. And sometimes, it's incredibly, unbelievably annoying. But it's a phase. It will pass.

B is currently in the "I love your breasts phase". Sorry. I know it's tmi. But it's true. He will not leave them alone. I'm hoping that this, too, shall pass. Very, very soon.

"Can I lay on them, mom?"

"Can I touch them, mom?"

"Can I paint them, mom?"

Just in case you're wondering, the answer to all of the above is a resounding NO.

He doesn't reserve his love for breasts for the privacy of our home. He enjoys attempting to grab them in public, too. Fortunately, I never bought into that whole "teach your kids the proper words" thing, so we call them boop boops. Oh sure, people can figure it out, but at least it sounds a little better when, for example, he says in the grocery store line "Mom, can I put this candy bar in with your boop boops?"

So I was a little surprised when, during our walk today, he turned around from his seat in the stroller and said "Mom, daddy likes boobies, too".

Boobies?

Even if I was going to teach him the proper slang--if there's any such thing--I would have taught him boobs, not boobies.

Who in the world taught my four-year-old to say boobies?

B is staring at me, likely wondering why I haven't responded to his revelation. Well, at least he thinks it's a revelation. For me, it's not so much of a revelation.

"He loves boobies. He has some on his boat", he informs me.

Thinking I must have missed something, I say "He has what on his boat?"

"Boobies", B informs me.

I'm confused, and B sees it.

"You know the ones, mom. Just like the big red ones we saw at that lady's house."

My confusion is turning to alarm, and I ask him "What lady's house?"

He turns around and points across the street.

"That lady's house. The house with the boobies".

Oh, that lady's house.

The house with the buoy out front.

The big, red, nautical buoy.

As a yard ornament.

Just like the smaller versions that Jimmy has on his boat.

That he apparently really loves.