Mstr. 5 is running around with tennis balls down his shirt yelling, “I’m a laaady“…he has just paused to ask me, “Mummy, how close to each other are boobies?” whilst adjusting his chesticles.
I fully respect the fact that he wants to be anatomically correct.
Given that hubby and I have been sniggering like children over the blue tennis balls being dragged along with us to the park and the pub, maturity levels are not high in this household.
“Daddy I’ve lost all my blue balls“
“Mummy, my balls won’t fit in my pockets“
“heeeeey!! he’s running away with all my balls, its not faaaair!“
…I think you get the point…