I have never been a girlie girl, have always enjoyed the company of men, and honestly enjoy all the body function and potty humor that comes from my boys. Most of the time I can barely stifle my giggling when telling them how inappropriate they are.
Today we spent the afternoon with one of our nicest neighbors up here at the lake. He is an older gentleman who loves to tell stories, and knows a lot about every one on the lake, past and present. He spoke often about another neighbor, a childhood friend, Rosemary, who he affectionately calls Rosebud. He told us how Rosebud taught him to drive a boat, how a young Rosebud accidentally burned down her cottage after a drunken party, how Rosebud would taxi her Dad from our island to her cottage in the boat, and more.
As I was putting Josh to bed tonight he guffawed, slapped his knee and exclaimed "Rose-butt, what a name!" I said "No, honey it is RoseBUD." He told me I was wrong and lulled himself to sleep giggling "Rose-butt, Rose-butt, Rose-butt..." Yes, the humor starts young around here. Sweet dreams, Josh.
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