Teenage Boys Are A Different Species…

1. Everything will smell. Their car. Their closet. Their bathroom. Their bedroom. The hallway that leads to their room. It will be a funky, sweaty, noxious, musty, foul, deodorant soap-covering-perspiration, “I am no longer a little boy” type of odor. No candle, plug-in, floral spray or wax melt comes close to touching it. So stop trying. When they move out, painting the room and replacing the carpet MAY help. I say MAY.

2. They will suddenly want to wash their own sheets. They will bounce down the stairs with all of their bedding wrapped up in a tiny ball, duck into the laundry room, and out of nowhere suddenly want to start the washing machine with no help. Don’t ask. Don’t help. Don’t acknowledge. Move on, mom. This doesn’t involve you. Just a boy and his dreams.

3. There is no frustration greater than teaching a teenager how to drive. I’m almost done teaching my second son how to drive. I’ve got chewed-up cuticles, severe hair loss, and a scrip for reducing heart palpitations to prove it. No matter how cautious, careful, and smart of a driver they appear to be, and even with mom riding shotgun, dents will happen. So will things like, “Does yellow happen before or after green?” and, “Is 65 the fastest I can go?” Shoot. Me. Now.