On Halloween I arranged for my boys to do trick or treating with their friends. I decided to make a few pizzas before we left and even put a few decorations up, however it was NOT a party, I am not a party throwing mum. But there were 8 boys sat in my dinning room eating pizza, crisps and sweets (oh so healthy) in fancy dress costumes screaming, shouting and laughing so loudly my neighbours must have though I was a party throwing mum, which I am not.
Despite the instant head ache that arrived with 8 boys high on sugar I was actually pretty relieved at what I heard. Not the laughter and the joy of friendships being shared and memories being made, although obviously that is important, I was actually relieved to hear the gross topics of conversation. Don’t worry I haven’t finally drowned in this sea of blue I find myself in and moved to the dark side of gross boyness. I was just relieved to hear that all boys talk about trumps, bums, poo and who kissed who in the playground.
Apparently this is normal (albeit disgusting) boy talk. Mine are not actually any more gross than my friends boys, sorry ladies but your kids are gross too. It’s like toilette humour for the under 7’s and as much as I hate the whole “my trump smells better than your trump” talk and the “you’re a poo head” name calling, on this occasion I was relieved to hear that it wasn’t just my boys that instigated these conversations and there is still a small chance that I can raise my rude little monkeys into the gentleman I dream they will be.