The Little Guy is nine and spent most of the afternoon poking fun of Teenage Boy and TP, and making ridiculously loud noises from his tush. He cracked many inappropriate jokes--yet fairly appropriate for a nine year-old. Being the wonderful mother that I am, I stayed back, peeking throughout the windows and listening to the LG's heckling. TP wasn't impressed that her boyfriend was enthralled with the Little Guy. I, however, was.
After drying off, gobbling down an entire pizza, a soda and a bag of chips, TP and the boy went upstairs into the playroom. Again, LG followed, asking important questions like, "Why do you like my sister?" "Why do you like girls? They're weird." "Do you kiss her?" All the while impressing Teenage boy with his belching and farting skills.
I encouraged and applauded the Little Guy for keeping the teenagers in check.
Mother of the Year Award graciously accepted.