Is This An Indication Of Things To Come?

So I have been a lax, absent blogger recently.  New Year was the worst.  The.  Worst.  That shadowy hand of loneliness and self-pity had me firmly in its grip and didn't budge an inch to wipe my muffled tears, that I tried so very hard to hide from the boys.

But now I am back on slightly firmer ground.  The shifting sands of The Holidays have settled, the boys are back at school and the resulting routine has grounded me emotionally and mentally.

However, that is not the point of this post.  I am going to put my Moaning Minny garb to one side in order to post an urgent appeal to any mothers out there who have teenage/grown up sons.  I need to ask you...are the following two scenarios any indication of what is to come?



Scenario #1

Snuggling one morning with 4 year old Johnny Drama on the sofa, I'm surreptitiously reading my new Kindle (actually this is truly the direct cause of my blogging absense - in the past 2 weeks I have read 4 novels AND I read The Independent daily.  I know.  Me!  Vaguely informed on current affairs...for the first time in approximately 9 years.  Reading something other than road signs and blogs.  I almost don't recognise myself either.)

Johnny Drama nestles closer into the arm I have draped around him.  I am relishing this moment.  Guaranteed it won't last for long before he is, once more, bouncing off the walls and demanding gummi bears and a trip to Target to buy more toys (because the mountain of new toys he received on Christmas Day have already lost their allure and only succeeded in capturing his attention for 48 hours max).

Ah - these are the moments that make it all worthwhile, I muse internally, as he lets me gently stroke his hair, without swatting my arm away like a persistent mosquito.  Reminds me of when he was a chubby, cuddly baby.....

My reverie is abruptly interrupted.

In one swift, practiced motion Johnny Drama has reached into his pajama bottoms and pulled out his penis.  Before I can utter a word of protest or try to distract his hand to better use (want some gummi bears, darling?) he has pulled the foreskin down so violently that his penis immediately stands to attention and swells alarmingly in response to his tightly clenched grip.

"Look mummy...."

He points to the angry (and who can blame it?), red engorged head of his penis.

"....THAT'S ma Brain!!"

Before I can react he pulls his foreskin up to freakish proportions, as though he is trying to use the tip of it to clean his middle ear.

"Bye-bye Brain!"

And then down again...

"Hello Brain!!"

He looks up at me with his innocent big, baby blues and says, in all seriousness, whilst not so gently flicking the head of his miniature erection with his still dimpled, pudgy hand....

"That.  Is.  My.  Brain"

Yep, don't doubt it for a second Johnny Drama.  You've made it abundantly clear.  Gummi bears?  A trip to Target perhaps anyone?


Scenario #2

Johnny Drama is parading around at bed time, strutting his stuff in just a pair of socks.  He is swaggering and postulating while singing to himself.  As he gyrates his way past me I hear the song he is singing...

"All the single ladies....all the single ladies....all the single ladies....all the single ladies....uh-oh-oh-oh-oh"

Oh dear Lord.

I have no idea where he has heard this song.  I don't have it on my iPod and it hasn't been on the radio for months.  What the...???

He is FOUR YEARS OLD, for God's sake!

Four years old and already astute enough to recognise that his brain is, in fact, housed in his genitals and not, as I would prefer, his cranium.

Four years old and already exhibiting the confident swagger of an experienced gigalo.

What on earth is he going to be like at 14??

I am not adept at begging...but please, please, please will someone out there reassure me (and quickly) that this is NOT an indication of things to come...