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Grooming Gargoyles

Some say boys are much easier to raise.  I can see that.  Girls have that PMS thing going on once a month and who wants to deal with that?  Not me.  It's bad enough I have to deal with myself.  Plus, girls can be overly dramatic and cry a lot....wait.  Maybe they aren't too different from boys.  However, there is one thing that I probably wouldn't have to deal with if I had girls instead of boys.

That would be hygiene.

Being a girl myself, I know that girls like smelling nice.  We love to take baths and soak in sweet smelling bubbles and make our skin feel smooth.  No way are we going without brushing our teeth just in case our honey wants to steal a kiss.  Hair, makeup, deoderant...let's face it.  We are not going to face the day without looking good.

My boys are different.

They would wallow in their own filth and revel in it.  Big Mac Attack has finally gotten to the point where HH and I don't have to nag him to take a shower every day and groom himself.  Thank God for this because the kid is entering college in the fall.  Care Bear, on the other hand, fights us tooth and nail on this.  We often ask ourselves, "Who doesn't want to feel clean?  Doesn't he feel the film on his teeth and be grossed out?"  You would think our kids were raised by wolves.  The boy's hair usually looks like a rat's nest (he forbids a new haircut), and when I growl at him to brush his teeth and gargle, he growls back.  I am lucky if the boy actually obeys me.  Most often, he rolls out of bed in the morning and falls into the car when it's time to drive to school.  If he makes the horrific mistake of talking to anyone in the car, there is much spraying of the air freshener in his face, rolling down windows, and a very irate mother yelling, "Do us a favor and don't open your mouth!"

His younger brothers are relegated to brushing their teeth in my bathroom.  There is no trust that they will do this without supervision.  Too often, the boys don't make it to my bathroom to brush their teeth.  KC learned this the hard way one day.  My youngest has many good qualities, but occasionally he is given to whining.  The kind of wailing whine that grates on the nerves.  Today, he was making his own ramen noodles in the microwave.  When he was draining the water, he accidentally spilled the enter thing in the sink.  Thus began the wailing whine fest.  "Now I have to do it all agaaaaiiinnn!"  You would think the world had ended.  I am not the kind of mother that babies my boys.  In fact, some would think I am not a nice mom.  "Stop whining and just make another one!"

This episode reminded me of a time when he was in the family room watching TV with Stitch.  All of sudden, KC starts the wailing kind of crying.  I yell down the stairs, "What's wrong?"  I am thinking someone is bleeding.  He whines, "Stitch got in my face and breathed on me and his breath smells really baaaaad!"  Stitch was offended by this, but I just smirked and said, "Yeah, well, that's why you have to brush your teeth."




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