“Mom, look at those hot womans!”

This was the first comment out of Mario’s mouth when we got off our bike and headed to a block party at the park. Lovely. The scary thing is that it is innate in Mario – he certainly never hears Jon talk this way or me. He doesn’t watch male-chauvinistic shows and we have never watched Jersey Shore! After I scolded him about referring to girls that way, he proceeded with this comment:

“Mom, those girls think I’m hot.”

“What is your deal tonight, kid?!”

“Mom, I’m just telling you the girls think I am hot because I am so tan.”

Yeah, as Jon has said in the past, I think our best bet is to sterilize him for the next 20 years.

I took his mind off girls by leading him to corn hole. He became addicted with throwing those beanbags in the hole. If I got one in, he wanted to get two. We played for an entire hour and a half. I had to drag him away.

So there we have it. Jon and I have nurtured a girl-crazy competitive son. Oh, and a good-hearted son, I must add; on the ride home, he offered to coach me in corn hole so I could play better next time!