Caution. What follows is a winding road with many forks. I begin with daycare.
When I picked up Charlie, the girls in his class were being chatty Cathys. (No offense to Cathys.) The babysitter looked at me, smiled and said, “Be glad you don’t have girls.”
Oh. I’m glad, alright. Having four sisters was enough estrogen for me. I wanted testosterone in my house. Then again. With testosterone comes bathroom issues – messy, smelly bathroom issues. And, let us not forget, Captain Underpants. Read more