The birds and the bees.....Pinata Style

Dang that Santa. Dang him right to heck. (And dang the use of my "clean" language, when all I really feel like doing is swearing right now. BUT, you never know who's reading this blog, right? So, I will just continue to swear in my mind and pretend that I really do have a mouth that I could kiss my Mother with.) Now, what did the big guy do that's so bad, you might ask? Well, this is exactly what he did. He gave my 9 year old son a lesson in Sex Ed that we didn't quite bargain for..... all through a seemingly harmless video game...... that he got for Christmas. Is it all starting to make sense now? Really? You're still lost? Well, let me fill you in. Grab a drink and a snack 'cause this is gonna be GOOD! (And juicy.....and full of innuendos....if you're lucky! {wink, wink})

So, do me a fav. Watch this video real quick.....It won't take long....I promise. 43 seconds or less.... Just do it.....It'll be worth it.....

Now what do you see from this video? I see a fun-filled game involving pinatas. Nothing more. Nothing less.No blatant sexual undertones. No underlying innuendos. No mention of, dare I say, intercourse. (Gasp.) So I urged Zachary to ask for this game for Christmas. I am all about being able to use my children's Christmas toys as my own, and this game kinda intrigued me. Hmmm...plant a garden, attract species of pinatas, take care of your garden. Seems harmless enough. Bam! Christmas day, said game is opened and oohed and aahed over. Zachary plays it for awhile and then a couple of nights later when he's in bed I decide to give it a little try. I am hooked. I start by making my garden. Then I plant certain types of plants and this attracts certain species of pinata. Then, having certain species of pinata in your garden attracts other species of pinata. Seems kind of dumb, but oh so addicting! Then, the longer I play the game, the more skills I gain....And I've got mad skillz, baby! It's then that I realize this: Your pinatas can procreate! Well I never......

So this is how it goes.

1. You must have two of the same species of pinata. (Well, thanks captain obvious.)

2. All of the pinatas "needs" must be met. ( Things like feeding them a certain food, or making sure a certain type of plant is growing in the garden.)

3. You need to make sure they have a house. ('Cause I guess these little suckers don't want to "do it" in the car. Where's their sense of adventure, I ask you.)

After all of their needs are met is when the "magic" happens. You drag the two little love birds together. Little hearts flutter above their heads. The screen flashes forward to the inside of the house. The two pinatas are doing a love dance. (I am NOT making this up.) Now the screen flashes to the outside of the house where it is ROCKING UP AND DOWN! (Holy snake eyes on Sunday.) Then it flashes back into the inside of the house where the male pinata rolls over and falls asleep and the female pinata lights up a teeny tiny pinata cigarette. (Okay, just kidding....now I'm making it up, but I just wanted to see if ya'll were paying attention.) So, after they are done shaking the house to high heavens, both pinatas crawl out of the house and go their separate ways. Pretty soon the baby fairy comes and drops an egg in your garden, and in 1-2 minutes you are the proud parents of a baby pinata! (Whoops. I guess they forgot to use protection.) I am crapping you not!

I don't want to even know what sorts of thoughts are running through my 9 year olds head right now......fluttering love hearts......foreplay dancing..... if the house is rockin' don't come a knockin'.....Isn't he too young for this stuff? Isn't he too young for this video game? What's this rated E for everyone junk?! And why, oh why, did he have to learn the birds and the bees from a stinkin' video game? I for sure thought he'd learn it from some dirty little perv on the playground. I guess it's time for that 'Talk." The one that I'm going to make Santa Claus come and give him!

Well I'll be danged.....they cater???

Psst.....here's a secret. Did you know that the very best burger restaurant in Utah Valley has expanded their horizons to include a catering business? I happen to know this because I'm definitely on the up and up with all the latest trends. Oh, and also, my father-in-law happens to be the owner of said restaurant. (But that's a minor detail.)





That being said, here is my shameless plug for the brand new Burgers Supreme Catering. If you own your own company, are the boss of people, work for a company, work for a boss, plan family reunions, attend family reunions, are on the activity committee for your ward (and if you are, I'm sorry), attend activities in your ward, and may have anything to do with the planning of a shindig, big or small, Please......pretty, pretty please.....keep Burgers Supreme in mind for the job. If you have ever partaken of the sheer goodness that is Burgers Supreme, you will know of the quality of their food. (Plus their fry sauce is SO good you might just want to take a bath in it....go on, you can....we won't tell anyone.)



C'mon do it.....just call them.....we all know you want to.

http://www.burgerssupremecatering.com/

A conversation

Today I had a very "revealing" conversation with my two year old son. Here's how it went. I had just stepped out of the shower and he was sitting on the bathroom counter brushing his teeth with my toothbrush. (Oh the lovely things we moms do for a moments peace.) Now, before you judge, Yes, I do take a shower with my son in the room. He's TWO for hecks sake, and besides, if I didn't have my watchful eye on him every minute of the day he would be outside playing in the road without any socks and shoes on, nary a jacket in sight, in this wonderful March weather. (Which, by the by, is exactly what he was doing earlier this morning while I was lying in my bed watching "The Bachelor" forgetting about the fact that if I don't have my watchful eye on him every minute of the day then he pulls stunts like this. Phew. That was a lot to get off my chest.)
But I digress....back to the whole point of this shenanigan......
Here's how out little chat went:

Me: (Toweling off in front of him as I have done every morning for his whole entire life.)

Braden: Mom, you have a funny wee wee.

Me: Oh, (slightly embarrassed by the two year olds observations.....it's not that funny, is it?) B...you're so silly. (Change subject fast....I do not like where this is headed.)

Braden: Mom, what are those called? (Pointing at my chest and square at "the goods.")

Me: (Being coy) I don't know Beepers, what are they called?

Braden: Armpits! (Thinking for a minute.....and this is what I'm positive crosses his mind.... Hmm...I see Dad put on his deodorant every morning underneath his armpits, and these things look suspiciously different. These cannot be armpits.) Nooooo Mom, not armpits. What are they called?

Me: (Oh boy, which word should I use? As a whole slew of them cross of mind, and I will save you the many options I ran through, before I finally decided....) It's called my chest B. My chest. Now get outside and play in the road!

And this is why I can never shower again. (I sure hope my husband likes his women stinky....and er...... "ungroomed." YIKES.) Such a sad tale....but true. I'm afraid this ones going to give me a run for my money. But he sure is cute, ain't he?