I am constantly amazed at how different boys and girls are from nearly birth.   I have seen my little boys turn anything into a gun from the time they could walk.  They like blocks, trains, dinosaurs, and dirt.  Our little girls liked dolls, beads, fluffy animals, and dirt.  It is something born in them.

The other night after AWANA, we decided to grab two $5 pizzas from Little Ceasars.  I love pizza.  I have often been overheard saying, "I've never met a pizza that I didn't like."  It is my favorite food, and it is my weakness.  I will eat cheap pizza, expensive pizza, frozen pizza, thin pizza, thick pizza, stuffed pizza, loaded pizza, cheese pizza.... You get the picture.

We ate our pizza and put the kids to bed.  When we sat down to watch TV, JP had some more pizza.  I assumed that the pizza was all gone, and I went to bed. 

The next morning, I started to clean up the pizza mess and I noticed that there were four pieces left in the top box.  I lamented loudly at the waste of 4 perfectly good pieces of pizza!  Why did they have to die a cruel, useless death?  JP walked in to survery the situation.

"Those are perfectly fine.  We ate Pizza Pit the next morning all the time in college.  We are all fine."

"Um, didn't I just tell you Bert's wife died this week from food poisoning from pizza?"  *true story*

"This pizza is fine!"

"Well you won't catch ME or the kids eating it!  If you want to kill yourself with warm, left over pizza for breakfast, GO AHEAD."

He grabs two pieces and heads down to his office.  I go about working in the house.  #1 goes by giggling.  He is eating one of the death slices!  Seriously.  He says it tastes JUST fine.  I rolled my eyes and went about my business. 

Not five minutes later, I hear the bar stools in the kitchen moving around.  I hear the creak of the pizza box, and our come #4 with a big grin on his face and the last piece of pizza in his mouth.

Boys are gross.