Boys Are Different

Last week, we were talking to Husband's bookend, his youngest brother. They call each other that because they are the first and the last kids in the family, and although they're 10 years apart, they are the most like each other, are very close, and probably talk to each other once or twice a day.

Husband's brother told us we needed to ask our nephew what the doctor told him at his checkup that day because it was exciting news. So, Nephew got on the phone, and over the speaker phone, we all asked him what the big news was. Newly turned eleven-year-old Nephew excitedly exclaimed, "I'm in stage two of puberty!" There was dead silence on our end as we tried to absorb that monumental bit of information. In an effort to make conversation, I responded, "Wow, pretty soon you'll be able to shave!". And then Nephew responded, "Well, that's not where the hair is. . . ."

The girls and I couldn't talk because our jaws were hanging open, and Husband was busting a gut laughing. I can't wait until he hits whatever stage three is.