I have a friend who is the mother of three boys. And I guess she decided that once you hit three, what's one, or two, or even three more? So she invited Calvin for a sleepover. At one point she told me she had nine boys running around her house. I told her she was crazy, and that much chaos would make me either take to my bed or the bottle. I asked her how she puts up with it. She said it is because of conversations like this:
Boy 1: I love cheese!
Boy 2: Me too!
Boy 1: Cheese pizza is the best!
Boy 3: My dad can't eat cheese.
Boy 2: Why not?
Boy 3: He's lactose intolerant.
Boy 2: What does that mean?
Boy 3: It means he has really stinky farts.
Boy 2: Oh, then my dad has it too.
