Boys - what would you do?

My boys were getting into a fight in a public place, I watched as an adult grabbed the older one by the shirt and said something to him before pushing him away.  I am at a loss if I should have intervened or not.  Here's my take on it:


1.  Sometimes the younger one instigates it and no one sees that - he still has the cuteness factor on his side that makes everyone - including me - over look it.

2.  Yes, the older one is working on self control, and I did tell him to get his brother to do something that his brother DID NOT do.

3.  No, that does not condone him from bullying his brother but - do we use physical force to teach a lesson about physical force?

4.  Don't most brothers fight like that?  Or did I grow up in a different household?

I guess what I am working with here is whether or not I should have stepped in and said something or just let it play out the way I just did.  Here's why I let it play out.

1.  I tell the older one that he needs to learn control maybe someone else embarrassing him into it will make him think twice before his hormones are raging outbreaks.

2.  The younger one needs to see the consequences about his actions - his brother did tell him that I wanted them to do something that he specifically refused to do.  He understood that he brought this one on himself.

3.  I am sure the older one was showing off in front of a friend, and I am glad that this taught him that this doesn't end well.

In the end it had them both crying, which I think is a good thing, both learning lessons that I can tell them over and over again but until someone else says something it really doesn't resonate.   I watched them both apologize to each to each other and then take care of each other like brothers do.  They do love each other - they just annoy the hell out of each other.  

As I always say, "Be lucky that your brother loves you, because you annoy a stranger like that it is going to be much worse that you ever expected."

They learned that today.

Would you have let it play out or would you have stepped in, what do you think?

Ten Secrets to a Happy Marriage - Husband/Wife Edition

Today I celebrate 26 years with a great man who loves me, puts up with all of my crap AND still smiles at me every morning.  How do we do it?  Easy.....



For the Husband:

1.  Don't worry about your socks matching, especially as she gets on in years and can't even see them as she matches them, no one looks at your socks anyway.

2.  The bra hanging on the door knob - she's just reminding you that she's still got it - don't mention it needs a little more underwire than the youthful days.

3.  Dinner is anyway you see it - that burnt food after 26 years - it's just extra flavoring.

4.  There is no perfect way to parent a child - and sometimes duct tape can help you have a casual conversation with your wife.

5.  Say I love you every single day, especially when she asks, "Do I look fat in these jeans?"

For the Wife:

1.  No, you do not look fat in those jeans, and he knows any way he tries to say it will not come out right, just accept the "I love you" and smile.

2.  Great motto for life - always keep your fights on the clean side, and what you do in the bedroom on the dirty side.

3.  He still wants you after watching you give birth, gain then shed 50 lbs AND when you color your hair - you got a good one.

4.  Pick you arguments, the ones that don't matter just smile sweetly and keep what you are saying in your head, in your head.

5.  Starting off and then doing the work to stay friends.  You can tell your friend anything, but if they are married to you you can tell them anything AND they still love you anyway!

Happy Anniversary to my best friend, someone I've been with longer than I've been alone - and that's a good thing.  A lot of people call marriage a work of art - ours will be a masterpiece.

Hello Menopause, my Old Friend

I'm getting old.

Yes, I have fought it every step of the way, but somehow it caught up with me.

I am getting old.

How do I know?

I am having hot flashes.  

Those feelings I used to welcome when watching Vin Diesel in the Fast and Furious movies but now they come at the wrong time.

When someone wants to give me a hug.

When I have put on that cute dress that just seems to not only soak up the water my body produces but places it in the most inappropriate places, like looking like I've peed myself.

I'm having mood swings.

My husband will say, "Good morning sweetie," and I hear, "Hey lardass how many Reese Cups did you eat last night?"  I know it is not right, but something inside makes me react to that.

Then my kids will do what they normally do - not brush their teeth for 6 days, or take their shoes off in the car when the windows are up or spend the afternoon annoying each other, normally I can ignore this, but all of a sudden I want to become Jason Vorhees and take out a chainsaw  and make they feel sorry they said "STOP" for the 1032th time.

I have a teenage face.

I wish it was the lack of wrinkles, or how nice and tight my skin is, it unfortunately is my skin has decided to errupt with craters bigger than Mt. St. Helenes, and off course mine are not the "I don't see anything zits," they are the "Wow, how many times have you picked at that one," zits.

I have a muffin top.

Is there nothing I can do for this extra layer of fat around my waist?  I am cutting my calories, my only carb is a single crouton once a week.  Some of my sisters nod knowingly with the "Oh, yeah, we tried that too" face but they let me do my pilates, my crunches, my burpees and see the same, "When's the baby due" stomach.

Now if I could take care of the liquid carbohydrates, well, then I'd be back at the beginning of this list and in a much worse mood.

I can't sleep.

Sure I worry about my kids, my job, my mortgages, my muffin top.  When I was younger, I'd wake up thinking, "Was that an axe murderer I heard in the house?"  Now, I wake up thinking, "Was that the dog barfing I heard?"  I can fall back to sleep only to wake up again thinking, "Did I actually post that after two glasses of wine?  or When did I pay the electric bill?"  These mean, just get up because you'll be obsessing about it anyway.

I'm become unsure.

I don't know which mood I hate more - the I want to kill everyone or the I am sliding into the pool of old age mood.  One at least gives me energy, the other just makes me sigh.  But then I look at Sophia Loren and Susan Sarandon and Meryl Streep and I just.....well, sigh.  Maybe the liquid bread is the problem.

I have memory loss.

I forget why I walked into a room.  I forget that my glasses are sitting on my head.  I forget that I schedule a facebook post and then like it because I think it is cool.  I write whole short stories and forget them until I read them a few days later.

I forget where I put my keys, I forget if I washed a pile of laundry until I smell it and as I fall to my knees remember this was on going INTO the washer.  I forget all the reminders school sends home, then forget re-reminders.  Yes, I am that parent begging, "I know it is a week late, but please let me turn in this fundraiser, sure it's a bunch of orders but it's really all my own money but he really wants to do the pig races this year!"

Luckily I know who I am and where I am going - and I do not need GPS to tell me so.  The best part about age is the wisdom that comes with it, so forget all the crappy stuff that comes along and embrace the new and improved you!

What are some of your menopause symptoms?

5 minutes in Dog Years

I need to go outside.

No really, I really need to go out side.

Whew, thanks for opening the door.



Ack!  It is freezing out here.

Let me in!

Let me in!

Whew, it is nice and warm in here.

Oh, wait, I forgot to use the bathroom.

I need to go outside.

Really, I forgot to use the bathroom, I HAVE to go outside.

Whew, thanks for opening the door.

It is freezing out here, let's get this over with fast!

Hey?  I'm back at the door, can you open it?

Really, open the door - it is freezing out here.

No?  Let me go to the other door.

Heck, is the back door I hear opening, wait!

Hey, I'm freezing back here, let me in.

I AM FREEZING, OPEN THE DOOR!

Whew, it is nice and warm in here.

..........

I think I want to go outside.

WTF - What the Friday - A Banana Slicer>?

Yes, behold, the Hutzler Banana Slicer, the newest gadget I must add to my kitchen!


At first I thought it was a joke, because I misread it to read Hustler Banana Slicer and my mind immediately went to that poor dude, what's his name, the Bobbitt who had the banana slicer or a device like it used on his banana.

So here's my take on a banana slicer.

It is billed as a fast way to slice banana - no go with me, because you still have to peel the banana so if it doesn't come with a banana peeler I'm not buying.

Looks like the banana can only go one way on the slicer.  What about left handed banana slicers?  Those poor people could lose fingers with this item.

Then I thought, all of my gadgets have multi-uses, so what about the banana slicer?

The perfect threat to my boys keeping them in line - simply show them the banana slicer and leave it at that - their imaginations are better than anything I could say.

We could slicer Weiners with it - not the congressman, but family weiners.  Granted the slicer kind of leans a little to the right, we'll just have to palpitate the weiner until it fits in the slicer, then it should work nicely.

The slicer would also work well on Bratwurst, the only problem is if it gets too hot it could spew hot juice on the slicee and cause burns.

Now this slicer is billed as the better banana slicer?  I'm thinking that it is designed to lure bananas by looking like a vagina, so it can slice them.  Too dangerous in my house.

Finally the MacDaddy of Banana Slicers - this could turn any male in your household fifty shades of pale.  BUT it not only slices bananas but eggs, apples, pears and of course small fingers and toes.

Better yet, just use a normal household items, like my children when they were younger.  Did you know you already had a banana slicer in your home?  Just open and close the CD holder while holding a banana in it - perfect slices every time.  Luckily the jamming warning kept it from slicing any other bananas in our household.

Would you add the Hutzler Banana Slicer to your drawer of kitchen gadgets?

What is that smell?

Babies prepare us for the lifelong job of being a mother.  How?  They prepare our noses:

It starts as an infant - they create the most unbelievable concoctions in their diaper - things you never believed you could smell and actually survive.  This prepares us for:

The leftover crap in the car - specifically the milk they decided to spill in the backseat on your floor mats, so that smell lingers and gets stronger on a hot summer day, which prepares us for:

The lunchbox that sits at the school Lost and Found for 2 weeks with the Thermos of pasta sitting in it

having a party with the water bottle full of apple juice and the cut up pears sitting in the plastic bag.  All of which is opened and put in the dishwasher preparing us for:

The science expermient that sits in the back of the fridge for 6 months, someone's got to guess what it is or what it what, which prepares us for:

The plate of food that ran upstairs and hid itself under their bed for a week, or so they tell you.  As you clean it, it prepares you for:

The tweenie getting in the car after a hot summer day at school, immediately taking their shoes off while reminding you they forgot to wear socks, which prepares you for:

The hormonal child after an extended gym class day in 90 degrees getting into your car, rolling up the windows and turning on the air conditioner, prompting you to have the talk about deodorant, which prepares us for:

Finding a huge pile of clothes sitting on top of the washing machine and wondering if you washed them or they are in need of a wash, with a heavy sigh you know what you need to do to find out, which prepares us for:

Cleaning out the boys bathroom, including scrubbing the toilet that obviously someone has missed and didn't notice.

See it all begins with shit and ends with shit.

The nose knows.

A Day In The Life Of A Facebook Addict

You are that Facebook person, I know you are:

You see a post and you like it.

So you say, "I will like you."

Then you see another post, but you don't like it.  It is sad, you shouldn't like something that is sad?

But you have to like it, because you want your friend (who you really don't know) to know that you see they are sad----by liking it.

You see another post, it makes you angry.  You do not delete the person off of your feed, you send an angry message back to that person (who you really don't know either) and get into a fight that ends with deleting them, which you should have done in the first place.

You see another post, you decide that it is not nice enough to like, close, but not close enough.

Finally, there is that cute picture of kittens - not only must you "like" this but you must share this because everyone shares kittens.

Then there's the picture that says, "Hangover, The Gods way of saying you kicked ass last night."  You love this but there's a problem:
If you like it, then they know you were drinking last night.
If you share it, then people will know that you drink.
What will all these people, who you really don't know anyway think about you drinking on a Tuesday night.
You take that one and save it for another day - maybe you can share it on a Sunday, but wait then what will all the people you don't know, who go to church, think?

You see a post from a friend about her Labrador puppy, you think, "OK, enough of the real puppy pictures, we like the funny ones that someone else made."

Then you stop by another friend's post and look at the picture, "OK, that's not real.  I will not like it."

Finally you see a few pictures of several friends you actually know together, "Well, why wasn't I invited to that party?  I mean we are Facebook friends."  You decide to LIKE it to show them that you KNOW and you are not happy about it.

All of this happens in the 5 minutes it took you to pull up Facebook and take a look.

You close out of it to actually get some work done.

But go back 5 minutes later.

Is this you?  Do you have continual conversations on what you LIKE and what you do not LIKE?

Lessons Learned About The Zombie Apocalypse - Woods Of Terror Zombie Mud Run

Yesterday I experienced the Woods of Terror Zombie Mud Run.  I realized this morning that I am fully prepared for the coming Zombie Apocalypse if I follow these steps:

1.  Always make sure you are the slowest person in the group.  The zombies will attack the fast people first giving you PLENTY of time to quietly slip by and survive.

2.  If you are the slowest person, trip the fast person in the beginning, this will give you plenty of start time to get out of the way.

3.  Most think the gamer is the person to bring, they have online experience with zombies - they are the best to bring because they've been in a chair for years - use them as bait

4.  Looking for your shoes in a mud pit - ain't nobody got time for that!

5.  Why worry about getting wet, dive in first - it cools your body temperature then the zombies cannot find you.

6.  Mud is your friend - camouflage my friends, camouflage my friends.

7.  Test out the garlic theory - eat tons of garlic the night before perhaps the smell coming from your skin will repel vampires AND zombies!

8.  If you are going to straddle and slide across a log over water - pick the one with less bark, certain parts of your body will thank you.

9.  Always have someone with you that has big boobs - for some reason they always attract the monsters AND make the men around them slow down - better your chances of getting away.

10.  Create a survival plan, make sure everyone is on board with it, then ditch it at the end, what ever goes according to plan?

What would you add to the plan?

WTF - What the Friday - Have you been to the Tag Office?

Have you been to the Tag Office lately?  No? I go to the Tag office over in Rural Hall in expectation that since it is in the middle of nowhere I'll be in and out pretty quickly, right?

Nope.

"Honey, the line starts there," a large woman says as I try to peer inside the door and see if it snakes around 1346 times before we even get in.  Someone at the DMV has taken a cue from Disney - hey, there's only three people outside the door, you commit to the line, get excited when you are finally through the door then find...
another line of 75 people snaking INSIDE the building.

So, I stand in the line looking around, realizing:

I only see people like this at Walmart.

What is that smell?

Oh wait, I've seen these people at the Dixie Classic Fair too.

God, I hate droplets of sweat running down my back and in between, well, there.....

Man, what an awful smell.

I finally make it to the front of the line, present my information with a smile, "I'm here to renew my tag!"

She looks at a computer for a few minutes, looks up at me, "There's a tax block on your car."

"A what?"

"A tax block."

"But I paid the taxes on it, here's the receipt."

"You'll have to call them with this confirmation number to remove the block before we can issue your tags.  Here's the number.  Once it is off, come back in, stand by the line and I'll take care of you."

I open my phone, she adds, "You have to make phone calls outside, NEXT IN LINE!"

I walk back out to 92 degree weather and start dialing the number.

"Jerome, you have to be down here to sign the title.  I can't transfer the car without you," I very loud voice is yelling into her phone.  "I waited in line in that hell hole for an hour, now get in your car and get your ass down here NOW!"

I almost want to tell her, "I know how you feel," but the sweat is now running down my back again so I dial the number.

"Winston Salem Tax Office, how can I help you?"

"I need to remove a tax block from my car to get my tags."

"Account number?"

"I read it off."

"You haven't paid your taxes," she says.

"What, I have this confirmation number," I repeat it again.  My hair is plastered to my neck, Leticia is yelling into her phone, "I don't care that you already took your lunch break, tell you boss that I am waiting at the DMV and need you here to sign the title NOW!"

There is silence on the other line, "Yes, you paid your taxes, but you still owe 2.27."

"What?"

"By the time you mailed your check, interest occurred, you owe 2.27."

"Can I pay you?"

"No, you can drive downtown to Chestnut street government building to pay."

"For 2.27?  There isn't another way?"

"You can pay over the phone with this number."

"Great, I'll call and pay, can you remove the block."

"No, then you can to call us back with the new confirmation number and we will remove the block."

"Really?  OK then"

As I dial the new number, Leticia is talking to herself about the stupidity of her brother and how she is the one that is always getting screwed.  I get so caught up in her conversation with herself that I must have pushed something wrong because the WS Tax Office Phone Hotline is now speaking to me in Spanish.  I hang up and call again.

"There will be a 5.99 charge for over the phone payments."

My butt cheeks are hurting at this point, but I punch in the numbers and pay my 2.27, I mean 8.26.

I call back to the Tax office and am informed that my hold time is 15 minutes but a very cheerful computer generated voice.  Leticia is deciding that she's going to McDonalds to wait for her brother, rather than sit in this African Heat because knowing him he's going to be late.

I finally get someone, give them the confirmation and am good to go.  I go back into DMV land, go and stand at the front waiting for the person ahead of me to finish, my dress is soaked with sweat, my hair looks wet and I'm irritated.

"Isn't is nice that some people think they don't have to wait in line."

"Really, should we tell her that the line starts outside?"

"No, we'll do the noble thing, just let her jump in line."

I turn to the two little old ladies behind me and say, "Listen bitches..."

OK, I didn't say that, I DID say, "Hey, I already waited in this line.  SHE," I point to DMV lady number 1, "told me I didn't have to wait again.  Be glad I am only renewing my tags, I'm in and out in a few minutes."

The both turn red, look at each other then look at the floor.  I wait a few more minutes wondering, "what is that SMELL?" I finally get my tags and hop skip and jump out the door.

Of course, when I get home, guess what's waiting in my mailbox.

Yep, a Forsyth County Tax Bill for

you got it

2.27

Ever had that much fun in your life?

The Club You Don't Want To Join

There's a club, that takes only special people and the initiation is not that great.  No one understands how it feels to lose a parent until they have lost a parent.  Recently a great friend joined the club, and I, being a member of that club remembers how it feels.

When you lose a parent it is like you disappear into death.  Those of us in the club understand.  We know you are changed forever, that you lose your last piece of childhood.  Losing a parent makes you feel adrift, like there is no anchor still telling you that everything will be all right.  That one person, that no matter what you do, will always love you.  We are left alone, our own childhood fades, turning into artifacts around the house - pictures on the bookshelf, a faded note written by hand.  We wish we could linger as a child, not having to take control, face the reality that life really does go on and others move forward.

Losing a parent makes you wish you had more time.  As you go through effects and houses, you see pieces of them you didn't know exist and it makes you sad you never got to sit down and ask those questions.  "Who's car were you sitting on in 1953 in this picture?  or "What position did you play when you played basketball for Villanova?"  The story of their life disappears, the only parts remaining are the parts you know from your time with them, that sinking realization that they did exist beyond being a parent, and now you'll never know.

If you know someone joining the club, here's a few pointers.

Let them be the child, let them tell you all about their Mommy or Daddy, because hearing the words as they say them, gives them peace.  They did actually exist, there is a history, and it will go on.

Accept that you are just an ear piece and be simply that, if you haven't joined the club what they really need is someone to listen, to understand the anger, the fear then the resulting sadness of loss.

Take the initiative and help with the task at hand.  There is nothing more daunting than facing a closet of clothes, a storage room full of boxes, even just an underwear drawer and learning how to let go - piece by piece.  Don't worry about flowers or casseroles, help with clearing out not just the home but the soul.

Losing a parent lets us feel our own mortality, the chain is broken and it cannot be fixed.  Before you join the club:

Pick them up when they fall.
Hold your tongue when they want to talk.
Provide the shoulder AND the ear when there is nothing else you can give.

What type of friend are you?  Have you joined the club?

WTF - What the Friday - Twerking

In case you have lived under a rock the past two weeks, everyone's been twerking everything they own to twerk.  So as a regular Friday installment, WTF or What The Friday wants to explore twerking.

Twerk - a dance club move, where a a person, usually a woman (oh really?) shakes her hips in an up and down motion causing her buttocks to wiggle (or wobble) or jiggle, or roll dependant upon the size of the booty.

There is no evidence of the origination of the word Twerk, some say it comes from the word "footwork" though I am at a loss of where the foot has anything to do with this - I think it is the booty. 

Another origin is the combination of the words "twist" and "jerk."  This makes sense because the word jerk does seem to go with this move.

To me, twerking has been around for a very long time, it just had a different name.  I have always known it as the "hoe dancing" or the "skankbug" or the "bootybop" because usually the ones twerking at any club I've ever been to had another one of the above names attached to them.

I searched the web for twerking and thought I would share some twerkers with you:

On a twerk forum: "Why is twerkin so easy for sum girls?  I wanna kno becus I want to be on the Twerk Team."

Twerk Team?  Do I really want to know?

Oh, and here's an answer (honest to God) "hahahaha i wil give you a good answer :] matter of fact i went to a twerk bash :D so basicall you ben over not al the waya bout half way arch your back hands ony your knee/thighs and move your knees up and down and pop your back or freestyla"

Yes, we can tell that very intelligent people are using the Twerk to further their education because putting on your college application that you were a standing member of the Twerk Team is a real plus.

Which brings me to ask these important questions?

Do you do the dance because it makes you use your Keugel Muscles?  Because if that's the case, then, I've got a lot of twerking to move.

When you shake your buttocks in an up and down motion, it is hard to stay standing?

And if you have a thong on and are twerking, do you apply vaseline to the string so you don't start a fire back there?

Is Twerking good for you?  Besides the exercise part, does it increase your flexibility?

If you are wondering if twerking is right for you, for some it just doesn't work.  Case in point, this video shows that twerking can actually kill you.

Be careful out there my friends.

I'm going in....

We all have skeletons in our closet, I have actual skeletons in mine.  I decided today that I was embarking on a purge of all the skeletons, which meant hitting THOSE closets.  You know the ones:

The closet in the boys room that they "clean" their room in, meaning, when I ask them to clean their room, they throw everything in the closet and shut the door - there, it's clean.

The guest room closet - yes, I've stuffed that one.  My husband calls that my "hoarder" closet.  Psst, there is a crib in there, and my youngest is 9 years old - anyone want it.

The Big Momma - that's the one we've all been throwing shit in for years.  The boys are at the point that they are even afraid to open the door, because we are all sure that just like in the movies, everything will come crashing down on us.

So I'm in the boys room.  It already smells like feet.  I'm thinking, "Should I take a shot of tequila before I open that door?  Or just put the Vapor Rub under the nose like the episode of Silence of the Lambs.  Either way, my mind is made up.

"Honey, I'm going in," I say to my husband who stands there with a large black trashbag as his hazmat suit.

Here's how to effectively clean out a kids closet room:

Start with the clothes.  Marvel at the 6month onezies you find in the back right corner, even if it looks like they have moldy pee on them.  Sort by size.  Get mad at the nice big pile of clothes your children grew out of because they were hidden in the closet.  Think about doing the smell test on what is left, then deciding it's just easier and better for your health if you just wash the huge pile.

Pull all the toys out.  Smile and remember fondly the zillions of happy meal toys you find in the closet.  Wonder how much money you've spent on Happy Meals as you notice you have several Shreks and way too many Fionas.  Put all toys in a huge trash bag that you go and hide in the guest room closet because if your husband sees all the toys you will get the lecture about spending too much money on fast food that is unhealthy.

That leaves the crap on the floor.  Pieces of toys, several pieces of petrified apple, a glass with a very questionable colored ring and of course the moldy dog poop.  Sweep this into the trash and immediately take to the trash can, the long line of ants will promptly fall you our the door and into the trash can.

Now the closet looks beautiful and I feel accomplished.  Stand wondering how long it will actually stay that way, then send sweet hubby to go and buy a lock so you can lock it closed every cleaning day.

Oh, did I tell you I found a skeleton?

Yep, an small frog skeleton that must have perished due to lack of nutrition in the astonishingly intact french fries.  We'll make stories about him and the freeze dried Alligator Head, but that's for another time.

What skeletons would you clean out of your closets, or do you have THOSE closets?

Do you have boys? Are you prepared?

I have two boys, those that live close to me already know that from the smells that come out of my home to the noise level at all times of the day.   Those cute little minions smelling of baby powder and running around your home are going to turn into tweens then teens!  Just to prepare you, I've created a list.

They believe in the natural smell of the human body and this prompts them to take off their shoes and celebrate in any place this natural occurrence.  The shoes come off with a silent snicker until I almost crash the car when the smell hits me.  I've been know to beg them to stick their feet out the window to keep the inside of my car from melting.




If they love the smell of their feet, they love the smell of their farts even better.  My boys love to share, they will wrestle one down and sit on him while holding that beautiful odor until the perfect moment.  The screaming coming out of my home is the rapture from the younger brother at this ceremony of his older brother.

Get used to the smell the breath game.  They will come up with every way of getting out of brushing their teeth, sometimes the yellow fuzz will give it away but most times you have to smell their breath.  Make sure you are sitting down while doing this, falling down hurts.

They detest detergent, they feel that clothing washed in detergent and smelling clean is not natural.  They will hide their clothes under the bed, in the closet, even wrapped up in their blankets.  The sign of a wrinkled shirt means the ride to school is happening with the windows down - rain or shine.

Dirt is their friend - it keeps you healthy to be exposed regularly to dirt they explain.  What they track in the home is just their way to keep the family healthy.

They can multitask.  A wet moldy towel on the floor can double as a mop.  If they spill their drink during the night, they can just move the towel over the puddle and wait for it to cement to the floor.  The polish can comes up with the towel was simply not supposed to be there.

Who needs soap when you have water?  Just the process of getting wet makes them feel clean, and the loss of smell that accompanies the onset of hormones means everyone except them needs to hold their nose.

Why does the dog pee in our bedroom?  Because it smells like a toilet.   Oh and throwing the wet moldy towel over does not constitute as covering it up.

If I tell you something is going to hurt, then don't try it on your brother.  Because it will hurt.  And then it will hurt you.

So here's the list I have compiled so far, as a mother just remember a few stinky hugs are better than no hugs at all.

What would you add to this list of boys?