Two (not-so-funny) Anecdotes

It's all about Alex right now.
He is SOOOOO 4 years old.
Three days ago we are in the post office, and he made fast friends with the other random children, and they start to run about, giving me and the other mother a chance to chat a bit. We were finished, I had the two car seats in hand, and Alex looks at the other Mom and says something that makes the entire lunch-hour-packed post office stop and stare at the poor Mom (that's me) of that 4 year old.
Alex looked at the other Mom and says (in a loud, clear, distinct voice), "My Daddy doesn't live with us. He didn't want to live with us anymore."
You could hear a pin drop in that busy place. A scene out of a movie, every head turned to look at the pathetic Mom toting twins and a rambunctious 4 year old who had been abandoned by the baby daddy.
Alex, at that point, noticed the automatic doors and ran for the parking lot, leaving me no time to explain the comment or quell the hushed whispers behind the counter.
I looked at the Mom I was talking to, her mouth open wide, ahgast, which quickly snapped shut and a feigned look of nonchalance washed over her face.
"Oh," she casually started, "Do you have help at home?"
I must have looked really pathetic.
"Oh, yes, we're here in Utah to be close to parts of my family." I realized this comment makes better sense when following the deployment questions, and now incriminated my husband even further by responding with this remark in my sleep-deprived state.
"Bye!" I hear the shout from outside from Alex. Conversation over. I had to "run" (not easy carrying two car seats) out the door to stop Alex from running into oncoming traffic.
On my way out of the post office, I noticed I had about 70% of the eyes in that place still on me.

From now on, (this had been well practiced) Alex will say "Daddy is in the Army!"

Enough said.

So, another story. My bathrooms (all three of them) smell like pee. Little boy Peepee, to be exact. If you have ever spent time with me or at my house, you may know that I am a crazed neat freak and germaphobe, so a peepee bathroom is both angering and disconcerting for me.
I scrub daily. Still the smell. I change cleaners and bleach more. Pee. Quite the mystery until one day I sneak into the bathroom while Alex is occupying it to see him peeing into the air, a joyous look on his face as his eyes follow the arc, and then he used the lid as a backboard.
"Alex! Why are you peeing on the seat?" I asked in total irritation.

Very simply he replied, "Because I can."