I love having just boys. Really. I love their ambivalence toward hygiene, their PokemonYugi-ohMarioBros alternative universes, and the fart noises they can make with armpits. I admire that they hold on to trash forever and let go of grudges instantly. I marvel at how they sit on the couch when they play their DS games together, head-to-head in a four-inch screen induced snuggle. I adore the grass stains, the toilet seat up, and the trading cards. On days when I’m feeling particularly unkempt, the fact that I am the only person in the house without dirt under my toenails makes me feel pretty. In my quietest moments I worry I will have no one to go shopping with when I am sixty. I may adopt a nice 25 year old daughter about then. I think my husband might like that. I hope readers will visit often and comment regularly – when you think I nailed it and when you think I’m smoking something. Even if you don’t have sons, I hope you’ll find pieces of yourself here with me.
