We’ve had lots of incidents with Jack and his toys lately. Some have been funnier than others. Last week, I came home from boot camp and Jack was a big hot mess. Arleigh said that he was upset because he flushed one of his two favorite cars down the toilet. Jack has been a bit fascinated with her bathroom lately. The car is on the big side for flushing but in his “GRREEEEEEN CAAAAR go away!” stupor I assumed it had happened. Never mind the boy has stopped putting anything away and losing things on a regular basis solidifying his place in the Stiff household, or at least as his mother’s son. Jack cried over Green Car for a few days. I was a bit bummed because it was one of the toys we had delivered to him in China while we waited to be able to get to him. (He never got it until the day he met us but that is beside the point.) He still had blue car, red car and purple car and he clearly learned his lesson… or so I thought.

Grandma was delivered to Kentucky yesterday and we initiated Operation Clean The Darn House. Hanan was helping Jack in his room. I heard Jack yell then Hanan squeal. Sometimes this is an excellent sign and sometimes this is a reason to hide. I chose option wait and see what happens. Jack came running into my bedroom pleased as punch. Green Car had not in fact been buried at sea but was buried under a pile of crap in Jack’s room. Finding one little green car and reuniting it with blue car was very exciting for one little boy.

Things are always interesting with Jack’s “Toys.” At some point, he’ll probably ask me to not share quite so much. I hope he grows up with his mother’s sense of humor. (I’ll be happy to share the story of my zipping my giant five-year old belly in a jumpsuit…you’ll see where I’m going with this.) Grandma’s last day here included a trip to Hickam Beach. 

(Yeah, I just feel like being cruel. This isn’t even my favorite beach.)

Jack was wearing a new swimsuit. He was doing the potty dance, you know the one. We’re trying to make him speak more and the bathroom was close and we were at the beach…so I was waiting him out. He finally said, “Mama, potty!” and we were off. We get to the bathroom and he was having a bit of a personal problem. I still don’t know how it happened but he had a very UNCOMFORTABLE wardrobe malfunction. Like something was attached to an article of clothing uncomfortable. I’m a girl. I can totally deal with girl bits. I am not a boy. Boy bits are not in my level of competence, poor kid. I decided to wait and see if he could deal with it. Um. No. I try to help. This is not a part of Jack’s anatomy that he appreciated the pull and tug maneuver to get the board shorts off. I was doing the best I could which is not saying much under the circumstances. Jack is quickly going from uncomfortable to being in more than a bit of pain and I’m trying not to panic. These are boy bits after all. He starts to whine and yell, that thirty seconds seemed to last 100 years but we finally achieved FREEDOM! Can I please get a Hallelujah and an Amen? Jack looked up at me and said, “Mama said no touch the toy.”

I can’t tell you how hard it was not to fall over I was laughing so hard. Jack has been seeing and endocrinologist. He’s had a series of testosterone shots to help his growth. It causes certain side effects in boys. My mantra for a bit seemed to be, “Jack stop touching, that’s not a toy.” Something, as usual was lost in translation between us but it made a truly horrific experience a bit more humorous for me. The funnier part was watching Jack walk like an old man down to the beach and then try to tell his Grandma what had happened to his “toy.” Oh my! 

Jack got over his incident fairly quickly. I’ll just tell him to send me the therapy bills later. We’re working on parts of the anatomy with the correct vernacular. Poor kid had no idea what he was getting into with this family. 

In other news, Jack has his follow up today from  his testosterone shot therapy. As always, prayers are appreciated.