Don’t let this angelic photo fool you. This kid is…something else.
It all started a couple months ago when Madden developed what I feel like is a common little boy behavior: obsessing over “the biggest” everything. The BIGGEST serving of dinner. The BIGGEST cup of juice. The BIGGEST piece of paper to color on. It was a totally cute, super benign obsession until that one time – pre-pottytraining (so about 6 weeks ago) – when I was changing his diaper and he looked right at me as he shoved his hands between his legs and exclaimed, “Look at my BIG privates, mommy!”
Cue a nervous + hearty laugh. Because I mean LOL, right? Right. But only after a quick WTF first.
Since then, Madden has developed a full-fledged obsession with potty humor and his privates. Typical boy, right?
After the initial “Look at my BIG privates, Mommy!” incident, RJ took Madden into the backyard to pee on the fence. Because obviously that’s what a proud father is supposed to do. I’ll give you one guess where this is headed. After only one time of pissing outdoors, Madden’s innate propensity for this manly act was activated. The following week, he got in trouble three times – TWICE in one day! – at school for “watering the fence” in the play yard during recess. I was mortified. RJ was amused.
Then, sometime soon afterward, RJ taught Madden what his “balls” are. So now Madden walks around talking about his “BIG balls”. His favorite method of mentioning them is to drop the phrase into songs. So like, instead of singing “Twinkle, twinkle, little star,” he’ll bust out with, “Twinkle, twinkle, Madden’s big balls,” and then burst into a fit of laughter. He also likes to walk around grabbing them and swinging them. Especially when he’s fresh out of the bath (see also: naked). Because that’s when such behavior is most appropriate. Duh.
I’m not going to lie – it’s cute and hilarious. But only at home. Every day I’m worried that when I pick the kids up from school I’m going to be pulled into the office and talked to about his inappropriate behavior. After all, we’re talking about the kid who has already dropped trou during recess to piss on the fence (and once on the kids’ play house); who runs around talking about, grabbing, and swinging his BIG balls; and who had to sit out the first few trips to the neighborhood pool over the summer because he refused to get in the water unless we let him take everything – and I mean everything – off. Not that I have an issue with Madden free-ballin’ at home in the bathtub. But at the neighborhood pool? Sanity issues aside, I’m pretty sure there are laws against that…
This little boy is something else, guys. And he’s only two. I can only imagine what the next 16 years with him living under my roof will bring, when he’s walking around making poop jokes and grabbin’ his jock before he’s learned how to tie his own shoes or button his own pants.
I’m not sure that I’m prepared for this, guys. It’s like I’m raising a two-year old version of my potty-humor-and-piss-outside-loving Dad. Talk about a recipe for comedic disaster…