A True Boy? A True Texan? Or Both???

On our way back from Granbury yesterday, I pulled over in Hearne so Grant could potty. Because I am a germ freak, and because it is such a pain getting Rhett in and out of the car seat (surely it's similar to trying to put a monkey or octopus in a car seat), I usually just pull over in somewhat of a hidden-from-view area and let Grant pee there instead of a dirty convenient store's restroom. So, as to routine, I parked next to a shed behind a restaurant (the Dixie Cafe) that offered plenty of privacy and Grant willingly got out to do his business as he felt the bathroom location I had chosen would suffice. However, instead of peeing on the ground as usual, this time he peed on the side of the shed for whatever reason. (That is obviously a guy thing.) Anyway, when he was done, he pulled up his pants and said proudly, "Look, Mamma! I tee-teed in the shape of Texas!" Sure enough, there was a rough outline of the shape of Texas mapped out in pee on the side of the shed. Oh, to be a boy! Oh, to be a Texan! Oh, to be that lucky shed!