Kids. My kids have brought me to my own childhood again, and I have to admit that I am allowing them to drag me down with them. Abby's birthday is today. I got her a game called Totally Gross. It's supposed to be a science game that you can learn from, but as I sat here playing on the computer I was listening to their game and even Jon couldn't hold back the laughter when one of the questions went something like this..."How does a Buzzard protect itself? With farts that sound like gunshots or with projectile vomiting?" I was laughing, pretty hard. Trying to imagine farts that sounded like gunshots was just downright hilarious. I guess that's the irreverence in me speaking.
That's not the only gross thing in my home though. Kids are earthy creatures and it tends to seep from their pores at times. Bodily noises, smells and habits. With nine kids I have to admit I have seen just about everything there is to see. Kids that have fallen asleep in their own vomit, blow out diapers that make a grown man weep, snot that reaches from the tip of the nose to the floor...and I could keep going. There's also the words that would make Satan cringe, habits that no child should ever form and a love for bugs that only little boys can develop.
When you enter my home you might be able to see and hear some of the grossness going on. My son and his friend have topics of conversation that require me and Jon to intervene. We have to gently remind them that there is a time and place for such conversations, and usually they require an adult to be involved. You might leave the house with mud and leaves on yours shoes...Did you hear that? You might leave with those things on your feet. My kids regularly track things in the house that are not meant to be in the house. They really are not meant to be on the bottom of shoes either, but they end up there non the less. Most of the time I choose not even to ask where they were playing that got those items there in the first place. What I don't know won't hurt me.
I live in the idea that they will grow. They may learn to clean up after themselves, keep the bugs outside and grow out of the dirty habits. If not then I can cling to the hope that they will move away and continue their grossness in their own homes. They will have to understand that I may not come to visit very often if they do that, but I will always love them. And perhaps always laugh at them.