What is it about boys? As I sit writing, I peak over at my 4 year old son who happens to be standing in the next room, apparently contemplating which toy to destroy next. And, yep, he’s got his hands stuffed down his pajama pants — again! Ugh. I can’t tell you how many times a day I say “hands out of your pants please!”. It’s getting to the point that I hear that mantra in my head as I go about my daily business. That and Darth Vader’s theme song seem to be the musical score for my life right now.
I mean, I kind of get it. I guess if I had something hanging off my body I’d feel compelled to give it a tug now and again too. But then again, I don’t go around massaging my boobs.. and those are pretty sticky-outy too (maybe less so after two kids, but still…). But the novelty eventually wears off, right? Or no??!! I have this horrible fear that despite my best efforts, he’s going to start kindergarden and still be doing it. Or worse, college.