Mary and Stuff

Ironman and I were on an hour long road trip with the kids on the 4th of July. The two of us were talking and doing our best to tune out the noise from 3 of the 4 children in our PACKED to the gills minivan. Now that our family is a 6-pack, everything feels much more crowded...and only because of an 8 pound person.

Anyway, Ironman and I sometimes have to yell to each other to be heard over the background noise of laughing and singing...not a bad noise to be overwhelmed with, but the conversation went something like this--maybe not exactly like this, but something like this:

J: "Blah, blah. Yackety yack."

I: "Yes, I agree."

J: "Yada, yada."

I: "You're the most brilliant woman on the face of the earth..."

J: "Hold on. What are they singing?"

I: "I don't know."

J: "It's the tune of, 'Mary Had a Little Lamb,' but they're not saying 'little lamb."

Ironman and Jennifer stop to listen....

J: It's 'booty crack.' They're saying, 'Mary had a booty crack' and laughing hysterically.

*blink, blink*

J: Oh my gosh. Those are your children. That's not my fault.

I: KIDS! You can't just sing, 'Mary had a booty crack' over and over again. You have to finish the song. (Insert more crude and disgusting lyrics here that I have seriously mentally blocked out.)

It's really not my fault. I'm going to have cards printed up for all their teachers when they start school explaining how none of the gross words or concepts they come up with are my fault. I'll ask that a copy of the card be placed in their personal records. I already have it all planned out.