Outnumbered Two to One

Most of the time, my kids are fighting.

Their battles run the gamut from minor skirmishes to full on wars. Simple disagreements escalate quickly to shouting matches that then explode in to shoving matches that subsequently get even uglier than that. Eventually it ends with one or both parties or occasionally three or maybe just everyone, crying and sobbing and trying at the top of their lungs to plead their cases to mom or dad, who at that point are so NOT listening.

Today…

Today was not  one of those days.

Possibly the planets were righteously aligned. Maybe it’s some sort of karmic pat on the back for years of stellar parenting. More than likely my children have been replaced with alien facsimiles of themselves. Either way I’m good with it.

While we sat at the dinner table tonight, everyone seemingly satisfied with their meals, the children began joking and giggling and actually *gasp* enjoying each other’s company. The common theme? The joke that had everyone in stitches, literally rolling with laughter and unable to contain themselves?

It was the uttering of a single, lunatic phrase.

Complete nonsense.

And totally inappropriate for civilized dinner conversation.

Butt nipple.

I apologize in advance if your kid picks that up from my kid.

They were having so much fun with it. Seriously, who was I to rain on their weirdo anatomy parade?

Eventually it turned in to Monkey Nipple, but even I can’t say that without cracking a smile.

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