The Truth About Cats and Dogs

Okay, so this really has nothing to do concerning cats and dogs. However, if you examine the two, you will notice that there are major differences between the two. One barks, the other meows, one growls, the other hisses so on and so on. I'm sure you get the picture. I'm not here to talk about either one. Oh no, I'm not here to talk about them.

As briefly mentioned on one of my earlier posts, I am the mother of five children: three girls and two boys. Now, unlike cats and dogs, boys and girls belong to the same species. They are both human, have the same amount of legs, arms, organs, and whatever. Blood flows through their veins and a heart pumps it for them. Half of the time they use their brains, and ninety-nine percent of the time they use their mouths (I'm not even sure "mouths" is a real word). You'd think that with all of that in common, they would behave in a similar pattern as well.

HA HA HA HA HA...Yeah, right.

I thought I was the perfect mom, you know? I had three girls, two of them were teenagers, and the last one was a perfect angel fairy princess pirate. It didn't matter what I was elbow deep into, be it supper or diapers, I knew it was okay for them to be alone, quiet, and in the other room. It was, for the most part, safe. Persephone played with her dolls, Caylith played with food, and Abigail played with whatever she could find. Yes, the angel fairy princess pirates would climb walls, dressers, and shelves in order to reach forbidden nail polish and daddy's candy, but for the most part they were safety girls. Their brother Atticus, on the other hand, is a rolling ball of dyn-O-mite.

Atticus is a boy...pure and simple. The first time he passed gas without his diaper on was the funniest moment in his entire life. He passed it, cracked up laughing, and then strained to do it again. I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel in his head he strained so hard. Now when he does it, he laughs, says "I pooted," "excuse me," and then strains to do it again. Leave him in a room alone and have it become quiet strikes fear into even the bravest of hearts. Earlier this morning he put that statement to the test.

While I was in another room changing the baby, Atticus decided to perform a science experiment. He went into the bathroom, and locked the door (no, not that kind of experiment, he's only two). His experiment required every toothbrush in the bathroom, a brand new tube of toothpaste, a fingernail clipper, tweezers, and several bobby pins. Each item was carefully placed into the toilet, which was then flushed repeatedly to see if they, like toilet paper, would go down into the secret hole. This was done, of course, in silent secrecy. When hearing me calling him, he closed the lid of the toilet, tried flushing it one more time, and then opened the door. Of course, when I walked in, all I could see was his little footprints scattered throughout the bathroom tile. I grabbed a towel, shooed him out of the bathroom, and began cleaning what I thought was a wet mess. HA HA HA! Boy did I get more than what I bargained for. I was up to my elbows in toilet water and toothbrushes.

Boys.

And yet, I have two of them.