My kids won’t find the embarrassing stories I share with the world if I do it on another blog.

Right?

Just in case they do, let me say this.

Boys,

I want you to know that I do remember what it was like to be a pre-teen and I’m not unsympathetic. It’s just that I’m discovering there are certain traditions that are the rights of every parent. And when you become parents yourselves, I fully expect you to “torture” my grandbabies in the exact same way.

Please know my sweet things that the “fights” I put up to your attempts to fit in are only for show–and I am giggling in my head the whole time. For I know hormones are taking over your body, which is prohibiting you from exhibiting any normal sort of behavior–kinda like demonic possession without the projectile vomiting (there better not be any projectile vomiting).

Sharing some of your stories with my friends?? It’s just that a mamma has to do something to maintain her sanity.

I love you forever,
Mom