I grew up a girl.
Then I was an adult…girl.
And for the most part, boys and men behaved well around me because I was a girl.
And then I had boys.
Lots of boys. Three if you are keeping track at home.
What I have found is that I have lived my whole life without knowing the secret to comedy.
The laugh sweet spot.
The key to the funny bone.
Through careful observation and extensive male research I have found that boys are born with this knowledge. Some keep it to themselves behind smiles, while others share it freely with belly laughs.
My boys feel the need to share it freely.
Freely as in all the time.
All the time as in even when their loving mother threatens them within an inch of their life.
But the comedy can not stop even for time-outs and spankings.
The show must go on.
What is this funny secret that lies on the Y chromosome?
Any word can be made into a hilarious joke by adding the word butt.*
*There also seems to be bonus comedy karma points awarded if you can orchestrate the delivery of the side-splitting lines by someone age 3 and under.
Which explains why Rhett(3) runs through the house screaming “butt train!” to the utter delight of his brothers who are literally rolling on the floor with laughter.
And as Rhett passes his loving mother on his noisy ministry of comedy all she can do is stifle giggles behind empty threats in the hope that this show stays at home and never goes on the road.