Who Da Man?

It's no secret that I live in a household with three guys in various stages of testosterone overload. Bug, who is just getting familiar with it; Jock, who is learning how to navigate through it; and Coach, who is extremely comfortable in it.

In fact, Coach is so comfortable with his level of testosterone....his "manliness", if you will.... that he spent the day dividing his time between the vacuum and the mop. Nothing works better or faster to ensure that every annoying memory I have of him, every single thing I'm irritated with, gets erased completely. I even baked him a dozen of his favorite cookies.

Jock spent the day at his girlfriend's house. I have to say it was a relief to meet her mom, and discover that she has the same outlook on meeting her daughter's friends as I do on meeting Jock's. It's a MUST. We both have to meet everyone our kids are hanging out with, and if we think its a bad situation, then we both have no problems telling our kids they can't go. It also doesn't hurt that she's a police officer (the mom, not his girlfriend!). When I picked him up this evening, the mom was full of praise for my boy; telling me how polite and respectful he had been all afternoon. "Mrs. Blank" this, and "Ma'am" that. She was super impressed with my son. I'm not sure I can even put into words how proud I am every time someone tells me that about him. So on the way home, when I told him that it made me proud of him to hear things like that, know what that kid said to me?

Well, mom... you're raising me right.

How can I argue with that logic?

But my laugh-til-I-cried moment of the day came courtesy of Bug. He was playing football on his game system in his room, and all throughout he had been having a running commentary with himself. It was like he was a junior John Madden. (And as much as Madden irritates me, the analogy fits in this case because often neither he nor Bug make any sense when they're commentating!) I was in the living room folding laundry and talking to Coach, when we heard this gem:

Who's the man? I'M the man! Woot! Woot!

And then he came down the hall doing a victory dance. Which, sadly, will never win a spot on So You Think You Can Dance, as it was neither choreographed well.... or particularly graceful.

But who needs graceful when you've just won the Superbowl by a score of 53-3?

**and Happy Blogoversary to me today!! One year! Aren't you all glad you've stuck around?**