Moxie Mom On Life and Kids

MOXIE MOM on Life & Kids

Swordfighting

A couple nights ago, Ty taught me about swordfighting. “What is swordfighting?” I asked him, suspicious. Because I happen to know he does not own a sword, play or otherwise. Does he use sticks? Somehow, even before he explains, I already know sticks are not part of the equation.

Ty cackles, swivels his hips, puts his hand in front of his pelvis, and mimes aiming. You know.

“You swordfight with pee?”

“Yeah.”

“Where? Outside?” Please outside.

“No, in the bathroom. I do it with O.”

“Do you get pee on the floor?” Or the walls, I wonder? This is all I can think about.

“No,” he crows. “We do it into the toilet. We cross the streams into the toilet.”

An image here of the two little boys standing together, aiming together, laughing their heads off. The antidote for a mundane bodily function. Girls don’t have this have this kind of opportunity to bond, or maybe we do but we don’t think of it (or are we above it?). Then again, I can’t envision the physics of it or the necessary proximity to…oh never mind.

“Ty, I don’t like the idea of you ‘swordfighting’ in the bathroom. Maybe if you’re outside in the yard or something.” Am I being uptight?

Ty stares at me, incredulous. “What? Why not? Daddy does it!”

Really.

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