At least we know he likes women…

I can’t make this stuff up.  Here are a few tid-bits from recent conversations with Buckaroo.  I don’t quite know how I feel about all this just yet…

On “Becoming a Man”

Buckaroo:  {insert look of pure estatic happiness} “Mom, I’m becoming a man!” 
Me: “Really?  How do you know?”
Buckaroo: “There’s a hair on my penis!” 
Side note:  It wasn’t a pubic hair, it was a piece of hair.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him.

On “Kissing”

Buckaroo:  “Mom, I just can’t stop thinking about kissing.” 
Me:  “Do you mean because of your food allergies?”
Buckaroo:  “No Mom.  I mean kissing on the mouth to grown-up women.”
Me:  “Okay.”
Buckaroo:  “Everytime I see a grown-up woman I just want to kiss her.” 
Me:  “Well, you aren’t allowed to kiss on the mouth until you are 18.”
Buckaroo:  “I know that, it just makes me so sad that I can’t.”

On “Marriage”

Buckaroo:  “Mom, I don’t want to marry Miss Mac anymore.”
Me:  {Phew!  The whole marrying your sister had me worried!} “That’s great honey.”
Buckaroo:  “Do you see all of the grown-up women in this magazine?”
Side note:  Calm down, it was a Womens Fitness magazine!
Me:  “Yes, I see them.”
Buckaroo:  “They are so beautiful.  And you are beautiful, Mom, and so is Miss Mac.  But I think I want to kiss and marry one of them instead.”

On “Boobies”

Buckaroo:  “Mom, every time I see boobies then I see the boobie hole.”
Side note:  He means clevage.
Me:  “You should not be looking at boobies.”
Buckaroo:  “I can’t help it, Mom.”

On “why old hags need lovin’ too”

Buckaroo:  “See that Grandma over there?”
Me:  {noticing the 90 year old woman with a walker across the room} “Yes, honey.”
Buckaroo:  “I even want to kiss her.”