Another reason I LOVE having boys

My sister Heather is having her first son. She is slightly freaking out. Just wanted to dedicate this post to her. I promised her I would jot down reasons that boys are fun as they came to mind. Here's one . . . fresh from the bathroom, I mean toilet. Let's take a simple task of giving brother (Mateo) and sister (Sarah) the same set of instructions. They were eatting creamsicles and it got to the very end where it starts to drip down your hand, arm, etc. Both Mateo and Sarah don't do well with sticky, gooey messes. It freaks them out. So, in order to circumvent a meltdown times two, I told them both to go throw their creamsicles in the trash can and then to wash their hands. Sarah marched to the kitchen, threw her creamsicle in the trash, and proceeded to sign the word "help". (She needed to be lifted up to the kitchen sink and get help washing her hands). Mateo was missing in action. But, never fear, I could hear him. He was in his bathroom. I could hear the toilet flushing, and flushing, and flushing, and you guessed it . . . flushing. (Is it any wonder why the toilets are always out of commission around here?) He had his entire hand submerged in the toilet water, holding on to the creamsicle for dear life. When I asked him what on earth he thought he was doing, he simply responded: "But, mami you told me to throw it away. I can't let go of the stick and the popsicle is still getting stuck on it." Yes, it was supposed to be such an easy thing to do, but boys always have a way of making a major project and/or physics/scientific experiment out of the very simplest of tasks. Now that I threw away Mateo's creamsicle and washed his hands for him, whose job is it to mop up the toilet water mess on his bathroom floor? Heather, I AM SO EXCITED for you to have a son. Let me just tell you it is a character building experience. Love ya!