some things are better left unsaid

jack crept into our room early saturday morning to tell us that his shorts were wet so i, not wanting to get out of bed, told him to get into bed with us so we could get some more sleep. for some reason my sleep-crusted brain decided that he must've already changed his underwear and shorts since he was getting into bed with us, so i flung my arm around him and went back to sleep. well, tried to go back to sleep, i should say. jack is a fidgety little dude if he's not totally exhausted, so he would lay still for a bit then start squirming, then lay still, then start squirming, over and over....finally i'd had enough!

"jack! if you're going to be in here you need to lay still and go to sleep! what are you doing??"

"i'm just playing with my penis."

"what?? go.back.to.bed.NOW."

so he crawls out from under the covers beside me and off the bed flashing his little white ass in my face along the way. what? was it unreasonable to expect that he would want to have clothes on to get in bed with us?? heh. the best part was explaining to him (without any hint of judgement) that if he wants to play with his penis he has to do it in his own bed when he's ALONE. it was easy to talk to a 4 year old about it, i just hope i don't need to have the same conversation with him in, say, 8 or 9 years! YIKES. as much as i love having boys, i am truly frightened at what the pre-pubescent years will bring.