By Contributing Author Lora Rossi, of The Hugging Home
I live in a testosterone-fuelled home.
What can I say? It’s a man eat woman world here in my humble abode and there ain’t nothin’ I can do to change that.
Of course…I would never want to.
I have a husband. I have three sons. And then there is me.
And one thing I have learned…and I actually learned this growing up with no sisters and two younger brothers…is that bathroom humour never gets old with the male demographic.
Young, old, tall, short…it does not matter.
Guys rather enjoy anything having to do with bodily noises, bodily functions and their genitalia.
Burping is funny.
Farting is really funny.
Going to the bathroom is something to be announced and celebrated.
And any word that could possibly mean “testicles”…well…I catch myself chuckling just thinking about it.
If ya can’t beat ‘em gals…either ya go nuts (Ha! I just said “nuts”! lol lol lol)…or ya join ‘em.
Obviously, I have joined “team boy”.
Now I do draw the line.
I don’t make headline news out of my need to use the bathroom. This became very apparent when my then 6 year old son exclaimed (at the dinner table no less) that “Mommys don’t poo”.
Now, normally I would say “Can we not discuss this while we are eating?”, but being on team boy, I thought this proclamation was funny, so I said “Why do you think that?”
He replied, “Because you never say “I’m going poo, or I have to take a dump!”
Of course…laughter all around. “Mommys do go poo” I broke to him. “We just don’t announce it. We like to be private about those things.”
“Yes. Everybody does. Now…can we not discuss this while we are eating?”
Now, let’s talk testicles.
You mention balls, nuts, bag, sack or anything else that may – in another context – be used to speak of the testes…well…I’m sorry, but it is hilarious.
“Guys, who left their balls on the floor?” I ask.
“Ha ha ha ha ha! You said ‘balls’ mom! I have my balls! Maybe they are Daddy’s balls!”
And I pause to decide if I am going to play or not.
“These are too small to be Daddy’s balls!”
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
“Now pick up your balls…they are driving me nuts!”
“Ha ha ha ha ha! Nuts! You said ‘balls’ AND ‘nuts’ Mommy!”
Yes indeed I did. And now I am searching for other words…and laughing pretty hard.
“OK you little nut-balls. Stop driving me nuts and put your balls back in your bag!” Ha!
This reminds me of when my son tried chicken balls for the first time. He said “what are these?”
I said “chicken balls”.
He – of course – replied “Gross. I don’t want to eat a chicken’s BALLS!”
When I explained that they were actually deep-fried chicken BOOBS, he was not any more inclined to eat them.
So I then said they were actually chicken timbits (for those of you who are not Canadian…these are what we call donut-holes here!) and that, my friends, did the trick!
But I digress…
Back to the dinner table.
A few weeks back, my 7 year old was not eating his meal. I actually had to say these words out loud despite myself: “Noah, please stop pinching your nipples, put your shirt down and eat!”
Laughter, laughter, laughter!
A few months back, Christmas gave us lots to laugh about! What, with Santa’s sack and the bowl of nuts and nutcrackers and Christmas balls…well, it is a veritable garden of funny quips and jokes just waiting to happen.
And of course, I love to put those whoopee cushions in the stockings. That keeps my boys pretty busy and the laughter flowing for a good while!
Speaking of fake flatulence, my arms have been on the receiving end of fake farting contests – one son on each arm – more times than care to admit. Slobbery raspberries going off on each side, giggles getting louder with each one. By the end I have raspberry hickeys all over. Very attractive. And very funny.
But of course, I learned all about this growing up with my two younger brothers. Oh yes…that’s right people. I grew up with this. I have no sisters. Bathroom humor is not only present in my life…it has become a lifestyle!
And then, lest we forget the countless fart and burp apps on the iPhone. There are approximately a gazillion of them. I personally am the very proud owner of 11 of them myself. I may have to take out a loan to purchase more. Anything to keep my boys amused.
I’m a good mom that way.
Underarm farts are also fun…except I can’t participate. I can’t do it. I have asked my son to teach me, but I just don’t have enough “boy” in me I guess.
I continue to practice. Are there lessons for this? Perhaps a class at the local rec-centre?
As for fake burping, I am going nowhere fast with this trick. I remember my cousin could burp the entire alphabet to the great delight of my brothers.
I think my mom found it funny too – and as the mother of two boys herself, I now understand why. Poor woman. She is now the grandmother to four boys. Thank God for the littlest – both in size and age – my angel niece. She just may save us all.
So yeah. I get it. All this bathroom humour is pretty funny, although sometimes I would just like to have a civilized conversation.
But until then, instead of saying “put a sack on it” I say “let them go nuts!”
I just tell them to help me save on gas and fart in a jar.
‘Cause hey…they’re having a ball.
And frankly, so am I.
About the Author: Lora Rossi is the busy mother of 3 boys, wife, writer, blogger, artist, DIYer, certified home stager, non-profit professional and has a passion for connecting with and helping others, especially through the creative arts and the written word. Lora specializes in parenting, family, kids and authentic living.
She’s a rule breaker, a cookie baker, a lawn raker, an earth quaker, a morning waker, an ass shaker, a for heaven saker, a home maker and most of all a hug taker. Check out her blog The Hugging Home