|What!!! That's what I said a few years ago when they boys showed up at the back door like this.|
I look at them incredulously. Really! Hair is dripping. Rivulets of sweat leave streaks on the face. Mud is caked on elbows and knees. Once white T-shirts are varying degrees of gray.
With a huff they head to the bath. Moms are impossible.
They appear at breakfast in wrinkled, musty smelling clothes from the day before. I kindly suggest that before they eat breakfast, they put on some clean clothes.
"What!!!" As if that was a new and novel idea.
I hurry them into the car for a quick run to the store. This terrible smell assaults my nose. I roll down the windows despite the 100 degree temps.
"Mom, why do you have the windows down?"
"I can't breathe for the smell in here."
We're in the store. I can't even concentrate on what I'm trying to buy because the offensive odor keeps gagging me.
"Do me a favor and go stand at the end of the aisle until I'm done here."
The last few weeks I've resorted to blackmail. The boys come to breakfast. However, it is not served until they all pass the deodorant check.
I'm just waiting for the day when it's my turn to say, "What!!!"
"What! You want to take a bath."
"What! You put your deodorant on without being asked."
"What! You put clean clothes on without being told."
I know that day is just around the corner somewhere. I think. I hope. I pray. But then again maybe I don't. At least I don't have to worry about "the girls" just yet.
"Girls" vs. "Smell"???
Hmmm. I think I'll take the smell for now.
I know. I know. Now you're probably saying, "What!!!"