Squishy Balls

I feel especially lucky to have a boy and a girl.  I would say the same thing if I had two girls or two boys, but for my purposes today, I am feeling fortunate to have one of each.

Rory and Kamryn have very different personalities and if I were to give you characteristics of Kamryn, I think most people would assume I was talking about Rory and vice versa.  It’s kind of perfect like that, but it also keeps me on my toes all the time.

As anyone with a little boy with tell you, they seem to be born with an innate fascination with the business below their belt.  Pulling, tugging, pinching, twisting, etc.  I keep telling Ryan that he is in charge of that area when questions arise.  (No pun intended.)

A few weeks ago, Rory discovered his testicles.  He told me there were little balls in there.  I told him they were called testicles and he said, “Squishy balls?”

“No,” I replied, “testicles.”

“Squishy balls?” he asked again.

“No, Buddy, they are called testicles.”

“Me squish them?”  As he is pinching them in his fingers.

“No, don’t do that, you could hurt yourself.  Talk to your daddy about it.”

Fast forward to last night as Rory is getting out of the shower.  And once again playing with his twig and berries.

“Hey Mommy, these squishy balls?”

“Nope, testicles.  Remember?”

“Mommy, you have popsicles?”