Wyatt and I are morning people. We hit the ground running full of sunshine and, according to Stephen, noise. Earlier this week Wyatt and I were in the bathroom having a hushed conversation while I did my hair (important detail--our master bath is currently without a door and has been for at least 6 weeks now, hence the hushedness).

After using the toilet, Wyatt shares with me that his penis is growing.


Yes, Wyatt your penis is growing. Your entire body is growing as you become a bigger boy.


Yeah, but my penis is getting big. Like Dad's.

And then last night after dinner, Wyatt is undressing for a shower while Henry is finishing up his dessert. Another detail--the boys usually undress by running around the house, tearing their clothes off item by item. As I stand at the kitchen sink Wyatt runs into the room chanting happy penis, happy penis.

This actually brings joy to my heart because I love knowing that my children are happy. Stephen sounds slightly confused by the situation, and possibly frustrated, so I turn to see what exactly is going on over by the table. It is then that I realize Wyatt is chanting hoppy penis, hoppy penis, as evident by the hops that accompany his chant.

Oh, the life of a woman shared with a house full of boys.