Until the other day, I would have told you that the pinnacle of my boy-rearing career was when I admonished one of my boy children, during dinner at Buffalo Brothers, not to pants his brother in a restaurant - subtext being that pants-ing was somehow appropriate in a variety of other contexts. (For the record: they could have stripped bare-arsed naked, and the most they would have gotten out of our fellow diners would have been an appreciative chuckle or a knowing wink. There were two other tables of patrons that night, both large parties and both entirely male- a table of teenaged boys from Paschal High School and a table of Kappa Sigma fraternity brothers. There are a lot of Kappa Sigs in the family - both sides - and it's entirely possible that the boys will end up at Paschal. I told my spouse that eating in that restaurant on that particular day was like watching my future parenting life flash before my eyes.)
Anyway, here's the current front-runner for "best phrase that I never uttered before I had boy children":
Parker, put down the gun and finish your fish.
I could provide you with the back story, but that would take away from the awesomeness of the phrase. Which, I think, stands well on its own.