Back in the ’90s, Janet Jackson warned us all about the nastiness of boys, but even she couldn’t prepare me for the sheer grossness of being the mother of teenage boys.
When the youngest baby was potty trained (and before we knew we were expecting surprise baby #8) I thought I was done with diaper bags. They were all more or less able to take care of themselves, I thought.
I was wrong.
I’m back to carrying a big purse, and enough toiletries to clean a small country, or two teenage boys