Bean: In Fine Form

It’s like living with Calvin. So help me. I know I wasn’t going to write, but I have to preserve today for posterity.


Bean, walking into my room: MOM! I really like how I feel when I say bad words.

Me, picking up laundry from the floor, full stop: Wha..? Um. Okay. You like bad words? How do they make you feel?

Bean shrugging and now skipping around my room: I just like it, inside, when I say them.

Me, trying to play it cool: So, um… what words do you like to say?

Bean: POOP! I like to say POOP!! And sometime (whispering) … fart!

Me, exhaling: Oooooooh.


(I ran this one by my brother first to see what he though about sharing- he thought it was fine, so I’m going with it) We have one full bathroom in Little House. Bathtime is kind of hectic. I had just pulled Abby from the tub and Bean had gotten in. I was wiping down the counter and getting a dry towel, when I turned to see a Lego man fling across the bathtub, and Bean burst into uproarious laughter.

Me: What was that?

Bean: Look mom! I can use my wiener as a catapult! (he had an erection)

Looking in the tub, as he retrieves his his Lego guy, he pulls himself back again into the water, and lays the Lego man on his penis, and let’s it rip, and the Lego man flies across the bathroom. I’m not stunned into silence often…

Bean, looking at me: HEY MOM! Why does my wiener get hard?

Me, oh dear Lord why me. I opt for specific and technical: Uh…Well, it’s normal. A penis has tissue inside that fills with bloo…

Immediately interrupting, Bean: THERE’S TOILET PAPER INSIDE MY PENIS?????!!!!!

I can hear Jeffrey burst into outrageous guffaws from his room, and I throw down the towel, literally. I give up.


Ten minutes later. I am in my room, helping Abby into her nightgown and combing her hair. Bean walks in, totally naked, dripping wet, no towel, hands on his hips.

Bean: MOM! So I have a little problem.

Me, in my head: no no no no no nooooo! Me aloud: What’s happened- you’re all wet, where’s your towel!?

Bean: Weeeeell… The water in the bathtub is blue.

Me: Huh? How…WHY is the bathtub blue, Bean?

Bean: Well, I said I had a little problem, and it was with Jeff’s man-soap.

(I had picked up some Old Spice shower gel for Jeffrey a few days ago- it had not yet been used)

Me, setting Abby on the bed and heading down the hallway: HOW blue, Bean??

The scent of Old Spice body wash assails me as I approach the bathroom. The tub is still full of water, but the water is bright electric blue. The empty container floats forlornly amid the deep blue suds. My eyes are watering from the smell.

Me: The WHOLE bottle Bean?? What were you DOING?

Bean: It was pretty and I liked how it looked while I poured it on my tummy. It’s okay mom, we can get some more, right?

There are four fans on in my house and all the windows are open, and my eyes are still watering.


Now in my room, in jammies, and sitting on my bed, while I have the fan on in the bathroom and kitchen to clear out the Old Spice insanity. The boys are watching Shark Week, while I pointedly ignore the TV (have I told you how I feel about sharks? ridiculously illogically, terrified) Bean, stinking like DIAMONDS, crawls in my lap and whispers in my ear:

“Mom? Sharks don’t have tongues. But they are really nice, and if we just be nice to them, they won’t eat us all. I promise.”


In the last week, he has asked me: how to build an atom bomb, if we can get a kimodo dragon, what would happen if he put the fire extinguisher in the bathtub, to make him list of the ten deadliest animals in the world, if a compound pulley would allow him to lift his own weight, how poison frogs work, if Eskimos eat penguins, why anyone would live in Antarctica, if he can have a BB gun, and if it’s possible to drill holes in the ceiling and hang ropes for climbing inside the house so he doesn’t have to touch the floor ever again.

I love this child with every fiber of my being. Somedays though, I am just so tired I want to cry.

24 thoughts on “Bean: In Fine Form

  1. I recently saw a film, Mary and Max. It’s about a little girl who becomes pen pals and friends with a 44 year old man with Aspergers Syndrome. I don’t know how accurate it is in portraying Aspergers Syndrome, but I thought it was a rather interesting and endearing film.

    It might be good for a laugh/ tear jerker when you have time to breath. We watched it through Netflix Instant Que.

  2. I loved the last paragraph about all the questions he’s asked. Just this past week, I took my 8 yr old to the grocery store with me. All the way there, all the way through the store, and all the way home, he asked similar questions to those…just kinda random, off the wall things. I think it’s just sooo fun to hear what’s going through his mind.

  3. LOVE boys! This post reminded me of our three boys and the “experiments” they would pull off. If it was anything out of the ordinary, illegal, dangerous, gross, or otherwise unwise and curious- the boys would tag it as “an experiment”, because they knew their mom loved for them to learn and logically who could get mad at them for “trying”? “Will it blend?” – the words alone will cause you to purchase more blenders than a smoothie bar on a hot Mexican beach.

    Wait for the day when frozen/live frogs are in the freezer because on a NatGeo flick they saw frogs freeze in a pond then magically awaken in spring “no worries”.

    and just a heads up on that fire extinguisher in the tub…what a mess!

    moral of the story? Keep the camera ready at all times.

  4. What a crazy, fun, non-stop world you inhabit, Tracy!! I’m tired just reading it.

    I must admit that this also makes me very, very grateful for the not-quite-so-crazy-after-all antics of my two boys who are now in their 20s. (And grateful for the lack of complete knowledge of their college antics…)

  5. If I were in your shoes I’m sure I would not be doing half as well. You have so much weight on your shoulders I don’t know how you do it.
    May I say, though, that this post had me laughing so hard I cried? And that I absolutely love the way you write? You have an amazing gift.
    Thanks for sharing – you inspire and amuse.

  6. Sorry, I know it must be utterly exhausting, but I’m laughing so hard right now I’m crying. The fact that Bean was stinking like DIAMONDS just made me lose it. Did the tickets turn into diamonds, or is he riding on a horse? Hee-YAH!

    Honestly, what a (tiring) treasure. I’m so glad you recorded this, because I think you and he will get a big kick out of it later.

  7. THANK YOU! THANK YOU! For all the glimpses into your life: when you are strong and when youare exhausted, when you are worried and when you are laughing till you cry. This little glimpse improved my day immensely! THANK YOU!

  8. HeeHeeHee (yes, I know I already responded, but I love love love this and would gobble him up . . . but am pretty sure gobbling would go into the “NO” sensory pile πŸ˜‰

  9. Someday, Bean just might be the Old Spice Man on theose fab commercials: “Hello ladies, look at me…..”

    (sorry I couldn’t resist! This is the best laugh I have had all day. I love your family.)

  10. Thanks for the laugh. My oldest child has an autism spectrum disorder, and I can imagine him doing what your son did. πŸ™‚ I am so glad you write about Bean. Although I do not know you or him, I feel not alone in my experiences (raising a child with ASD) when I read about yours.

  11. Awesome! I love this post, makes me feel less alone. My three year old yelling out to me as we walk into the library, “Mom, lets talk about my penis!” Um.
    I don’t comment over here enough but I do absolutely love your blog it’s so refreshing and insightful. Thank you.

  12. This gave me a laugh I so despertly needed…thank you for sharing your talent of writing…but more importantly the antics of children and while the exhaust us, we can’t help but love them!

    Hope you are doing well and still smiling…
    Love and prayers.

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  14. That was awesome. Seriously. Simultaneously, it puts my status as a single non-parent into a new (positive!) perspective. Thanks for sharing that––I’ll be smiling all weekend!

  15. I have the erection conversation almost daily (with four little boys in the house). This is my part:

    Yes, it’s normal for your wiener to stick up. Just leave it alone and it will go down.

    My 3 year old is the first one who has actually articulated, “My wiener is a toy!”

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