Just days away from his 6th birthday, Finn continues to provide constant comic relief for us all. Last weekend, he had a friend over and they were all playing in the "ditch". No, it's not really a ditch, but a ravine that runs perpendicular to our street just one house away. They of course call it a ditch though, to anyone who'll listen, and I'm continually concerned that people think I let my child play in a murky mud puddle alongside a busy road. However, I digress.
So, Finn and his buddies, two from the street and one from the other side of the neighborhood, were playing in the ditch. It's like their own little world of forest. Over the years, the boys have built a fort in there, and to be honest, I've never gone to see it. They've never borrowed wood or tools, so I'm assuming it's just a natural structure built from whatever they could find in the ravine. After a day full of ditch-loving fun, it was time to take his buddy home, who lives several blocks away.
As we got in the car, Finn's pal said, "There's pee on my sweatshirt."
"There's what on your sweatshirt?" I asked. "Why?"
"Well, [insert another child's name] peed on it."
"He peed on it? Like on purpose?"
I receive two blank stares.
"What happened? Did you two pee in the ditch?"
"No, just he did," answers Finn (the liar.)
Fast forward to our arrival at my friend's house. I return her son, tell her what happened and to wash the sweatshirt. Thank God she's a good friend.
Finn gets a lecture about ditch-playing and peeing outdoors on the way home, as he continues to steadfastly deny his involvement. I am grossed out that my child is playing where people are peeing.
Fast forward a few days and we're at a school function with the friends who own the peed-on sweatshirt. They inform me that their honest son immediately cracked under the pressure and said all four of the boys peed in the ditch, not just the one. I can't wait to get Finn home.
And when I do, I learn that the ingenious little tikes have built a fort that actually has a bathroom in it. And they all use it. Regularly.
One more of the road.
Last night Finn says, "You know what my friend says? He says, "Ball-SSSS" and then, "Get it?"" He chuckles.
And I say, "What do you mean? What does he mean by that?"
And he says, "Why don't YOU know, Mom?" He appears shocked by my ignorance.
I sit like a deer in headlights and Mike laughs hysterically, making a joke that involves the word "nuts". Yes, this is helpful.
Boys will be boys.