Anyone who thinks they have a life free of boys is not married to a man. I raised three boys with a wonderful husband; also a boy. After 25 years of marriage the little bugger had the nerve to die. This left me with the other three boys. Things were pretty bad for a while. After a year or two, I found I needed to start laughing again so I started this blog. I wish I’d have kept it up. I have so very many boy stories.

Two years ago I remarried. He is another wonderful man who loves me despite actually knowing me. He had a 20+ year stretch in Special Forces, a career in government service, and… two boys. He is a man’s man. He knows I’m trying to finish my bachelor’s and supports my efforts unreservedly.

So I mention to him that I need to turn in a story for my first week in the new class with a specific audience. I’m thinking about my blog so the audience would be mothers of boys. However, as soon as I mention having to declare an audience to my husband he says, “Well, your audience is post-menopausal women, right?”

“All right old man! I am now looking for something to throw at you!”

He laughed himself silly and left the room just long enough for me to not pick up a solid object. Yes, my life is still with boys. Yes, I’m still very happy about it.

The Gun Show

Middle child: "OK, I'm going out for the night."

Me: "Where to?"

Middle child puts up one arm and makes a fist. Points to bicep with the other hand: "To the gun show."



Oy.

We're Not Amish

So the dishwasher broke (cuz, you know, SSA paid me). I ask Gregory to do the dishes. He says, "I can't. The dishwasher is broken."

Sigh...

So I say, "Fill the sink with hot water and soap and do them by hand."

The child looks at me like I've lost my mind and says, "But we're not Amish!"

Convertibles

So I'm showing the middle child a huge necklace that converts to a tiara (cuz he's the only one who will listen).

He says, "Now that's the kind of convertible every lady should have."

He's still single gals.

Sent to Me by the Middle Child

Dearly departed husband would agree.

Personally, I prefer teaching them to pay rent.

More of My Life with Boys (and not the normal kind)

Middle child to youngest: Go wash your hands.

Youngest: Why?

Middle: Because you just went to the bathroom and I didn't hear the water running.

Youngest: But why do I have to do it every time?

Me: Because your hands are dirty every time.

Middle: Yes, you should wash your hands 35 times a day like I do.

Oldest to me: Pfft. That's a lie. You know how I know he's lying about that 35 times thing?

Me: How?

Oldest: Because it's an odd number.

On Going Out

Middle child about to go out. 

Me: You look so handsome!

Him (with eyebrow lifted): Yeah. See, I want to be the best looking one in the group but I don't want to look like I'm trying.