"Boys Will Be Boys."

Growing up with three brothers, I often heard the phrase "boys will be boys" repeated over and over again. Though I'd oftentimes heard it, I don't think I quite caught on to the full meaning of that phrase until today. Yes, that's right. Today.
You see, today I was invited. Welcomed, rather. To a place most girls don't venture to go. It's a modern day version of the Little Rascal's "HeMan-Woman-Haters club," if you will. Maybe some girls lack the desire to go (by the sheer mention of the name); but for most girls, they lack the courage to go. It's like it's a secret club-of-sorts, this place is. An all-boys club, in fact. An innocent "street gang." An inner sanctum. A place where laughter abides, and who knows what will end up on someone's french fries.

That's right. Today. I. Sat. At. The. Fourth-Grade. Boy's. Lunch. Table.
And I'm thankful I did.
Conversation ranged from Lady Gaga's latest styles, to what was for dessert, to innumerable jokes about bodily fluids, and a long list of "I dare you to eat (fill in the blank) concoctions." Though those boys had me laughing so hard that I nearly lost track of time, I must admit I had to execute the infamous "mom look" a handful of times. Because of that, I'm unsure I'll be requested back for round two tomorrow. Buuuut...
All of that to say......this:
I absolutely love "my boys."
I'm ever-so-greatful for my job.
And I'm thankful that, even in the smallest orchestrated moments of my life, I can experience sheer joy and a glimpse of God's oh-so-creative masterpeice by witnessing the truth and reality of that age-old phrase: "boys will be boys."

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