Code Name Hélène

by Ariel Lawhon

I am a devoted fan of the male species. They are brave, brilliant, offer endless entertainment, are good for moving heavy objects, and make the act of procreation a great deal more enjoyable. I’d hate to see a world in which they did not exist. But sometimes they can be spectacular idiots.

Reader, I live in a house with four teenage boys (pray for me.) Like Nancy, out in the woods with the French Resistance, I am drowning in testosterone at all times. They are loud. They are smelly. They pick fights with one another and break things constantly (most recently a very large, very expensive flat screen television that we’d owned for a mere three months). I wouldn’t change a thing. And I do love my life. I love my boys. But sometimes they leave me speechless. In a bad way.