The difference between boys and girls....

...was demonstrated to me twice this morning. Maybe three. It was pervasive.

First:

I hear my son coming up the hall, and as he does each morning, he trips lightly into the bathroom off my bedroom, and I hear the toilet seat go up. "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" he exhales in relief as he pees. His visceral satisfaction with the first pee of the morning is impressive.

Second:

He crawls into bed with me. "Mommy! Good morning! I want you to come downstairs and make me pancakes with chocolate chips in them. But first, I want to give you a hug." He hugs me tightly and makes happy hugging noises. And then turns, and points his rear bits toward me. "Honey, what are you doing?" I ask. "Now," he says, "I am going to fart on you." We have a discussion of how Mommy does not play the fart game. "But Daddy and I do," he informs me seriously. "Yet Mommy does not play. Understood?" He nods sadly.

Third:

I then get up and go into the bathroom. "I want to come with you," he says, and joins me as I pee. Oh joy -- I wonder when I'll ever have privacy in the bathroom again. "I do that when I go poopy," he tells me. "Yes, dear, but I sit down to pee, too" I explain. In an unexpected Brittish accent, he trips, "Yes, because I have a PENIS, and you only have a BUTTOCKS!" His sing-song ends, and he marches out of the bathroom, and waits impatiently for me at the stairs. A moment later, a voice shouts back: "If you don't come down right now, I'm going to have to spank you!"

God, I love having a son.