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Dear Mothers Who Have Boys…

Dear Mothers of Sons,

Do you have boys who, at the age of 17, still exude fearsome body odor despite all of your attempts to teach them about proper hygiene?

Fear no more!

There is hope!

These same boys…the ones who brought home icky things like snails and toads but who still wanted to snuggle with their mamas while watching cartoons do actually grow up!

In fact, they even, out of the blue, ask their mamas to buy them deodorant that WORKS for longer than the amount of time it takes for them to close their armpits after applying the stuff!

And it gets even better!

There is that magical moment that follows the request about the deodorant when these boys ask you to buy them cologne that makes them smell good for several hours!!!

I KNOW!!!!

As a fellow mom-of-a-son, I too was shocked to discover this truth, which, in all honesty, nobody ever bothered to tell me!

I’ve decided not to hoard the joy and give you a glimpse into your future.

So, if you’re following behind your boys, using air fresheners to invigorate rooms they recently occupied…

Just remember…

The boys grow up…

And they go with their parents to Target, cause it’s a family affair…

And they spend twenty minutes sniffing all of the body washes, cologne, and deodorant…

And they leave happy…

Because the boys have turned into young men who…finally…care.

Some Things Never Change

Day 2 of Rockin’ Rooster’s high school career, and we’ve quickly discovered that he may be a teenager on the outside, but on the inside, he’s still my spastic boy-child.

How many of you have both boy and girl children? Those of you who do have probably noticed something. Girls tend to be more put-together from the onset. Perhaps this is God’s way of preparing females to be the all-knowing, take-care-of-everything people they will one day have to be.

Boys, on the other hand, come into this world outfitted as space cadets. Bless their little hearts. Boys are often the sweetest of the two sexes, but I believe this might be due to the fact that their minds are too busy flitting from one thing to another to hold grudges and whatnot.

It was not without hope, however, that I sent Rooster to school yesterday hoping that he had magically outgrown his natural tendencies.

Not so.

When school ended, he was the first of the Chick children to find my car. As we waited for Soccer Chick to stop doing that annoying thing where girls have to talk to every single person on their way out, Rooster and I began to chat.

“So, Mama, sometime between homeroom and first period, I lost my billfold. You know, the thing I put my entire allotment of lunch money for the week.”

Sigh.

Don’t get mad, I told myself. After all, only the night before, I was crying my eyes out over my baby growing up. I mentally placed an image of Kindergarten Rooster over the high school face I was now looking at.

“So, darling Space Case, whatever did you do? Did you get money from your sister, by chance?”

Oh no. That would have been too easy. He sucked it up and went without lunch. I felt terrible. Even more so because a few days before school started, I had lectured the Chick children on not making a 911 call to my office demanding money or lunch. I tend to be a hard-core disciplinarian. Mr. AuburnChick is a softee. I cannot tell you the number of times he showed up at that school last year with a Subway sandwich for girl-child. Yeah, it got to where he didn’t need to show picture ID to the staff.

That’s embarrassing.

So, after this lecture, you better believe that Rooster did not call either one of us to tell us about his mishap.

I felt terrible.

Rooster, surprisingly, was cool as a cucumber and readily accepted blame. He knew he would be making his lunch the rest of the week.

Well, after coming home, he washed his clothes (yes, I make my kids wash, dry and fold their own stuff), and he excitedly called me from the laundry room.

Yep, you guessed it. He found his wallet, money intact. That morning, he had changed his shorts after he realized that the pair he was wearing was dirty (go figure…he finally wants to wear clean clothes!). The only problem was that he didn’t remove the wallet he had already placed in one of the pockets. And he had forgotten this fact. Until he pulled the shorts out of the washing machine.

Wet or not, it was a great moment.

Until Tuesday morning (yes, this story gets better…keep reading)…

A grocery shopping trip yesterday afternoon left us with a well-stocked fridge. There was plenty of food for lunch, and Rooster decided to take his lunch. I dropped off the kids with a wave and went along my merry way to work.

As I reached down to grab my own lunch from the seat, I noticed something.

Yep. You guessed it.

It was Rooster’s lunch.

Sigh.

Do you remember my post a couple of weeks ago about finding white hairs on my head?

This is a classic example of why.

All I could picture was my boy-child, starving at lunch again. I tried to call him, but apparently he decided to follow the rules and turned off his phone.

So, I texted Soccer Chick instead. She doesn’t follow the rules. She texted back immediately, assuring me that her spastic brother had taken his lunch money, “Just in case.” Good thing.

I’m thinking I might just have to go back to Office Max and purchase that extra insurance for the graphing calculator I purchased yesterday. In Rooster’s own words, “I don’t exactly have a good track record for being responsible.”

Ya think?

Some things never change.

My Not-So-Fun Morning

Yesterday, my son came home and asked me if I knew where his cell phone was located. “Uh, isn’t that kind of your responsibility???” Besides, after having to remember nearly all bits of information pertinent to keeping this family running, my poor little brain just cannot contain such odious tidbits such as where AuburnChick’s son’s cell phone is currently residing.

“No, son, I do not know where you last put your cell phone.”

From the glassy-eyed look on his face, I knew this was only going to get worse.

But, as moms are supposed to do, I kept a positive outlook — after blasting him for being irresponsible. I mean, it’s not like it’s the first time something like this has happened. I am, after all, the mother of a child who came home from PE with only one shoe. All because the child shared his shoe with a classmate who did not have their own pair that day. So they each wore one sneaker and one flip-flop. This event made me question the parentage of my child that day. I mean, I’ve never done anything so, uh, strange. But, I digress.

Getting back to my story…

Son lost his phone, so the first logical step was to go by the office. Too easy. Of course. “Mrs. AuburnChick, is this your son’s phone?” Of course it’s not. It belongs to the boy who hasn’t discovered he’s lost his yet. On to the gym, where the coach greets us at the door.

“Hi, Mrs. AuburnChick! I remember you from last year when I called you about finding your son’s phone!”

“Um, I think you have me confused with someone else. Surely my son has not done this before!”

“Oh, yes, right before ____ tryouts.”

I hang my head in shame. Yes, it’s quite possible…

He unlocks the door to the boys’ dressing room, and I start getting nervous. You mean, I have to actually go in — there???? I’m scared.

Son and I go in and casually look around. Nope…no phone lying conspicuously on the floor, where we can easily find it.

“Ok, son, you take one half of the lockers, and I’ll take the other half.”

Surely not, you say! Yes, I opened every locker that did not have a lock. Lockers that had been opened by grimy, slimy, sweaty hands that pick boogers and who knows what else, because — let’s face it people — boys are just gross.

To my credit, I did not rummage through the clothing located inside. If that phone is buried somewhere amid the jock straps, underwear, and socks it will just have to stay lost.

Of course, we did not find the phone. I slipped out to my car where I de-funk-i-fied my hands several times before going to work. At least I think I did…