I’m the mother of 3 boys. They’re so different and yet so alike in most of the good ways, some of the bad ways, and all of the naughty ways. Naughty and bad are 2 very different things. Bad is when they drop an F bomb while practicing the trombone – but who am I to judge with a mouth my Grandmother would’ve compared to a fish lady (idk I think it was a Brooklyn thing.) Naughty, on the other hand is when they’ve been off from school for 2 full weeks and no matter how many times you yell at them to take showers and wind down, they can’t stop screaming and running around – at one point nakey and in front of the TV. It’s hard to focus on a 60 Minutes segment about Shakira (no matter how hot she is) when there are dicky-birds flying around.

It’s also hard to get mad at them when they’re being naughty because the giggling is so contagious and even though they’re not listening, all 3 of them in that moment are such best friends that it’s impossible to fault them. (Scratch the word “impossible” because it’s been nights like these when they catch me utterly exhausted and I lose my shit the worst.)

For them I’m sure it felt like the night before the first day of school, so I totally get it. Growing up, it would give me more butterflies than Christmas Eve, so I let it slide.

But man oh man do I feel bad for all the teachers out there. If your students act anything like my boys did last night … Godspeed educators … bless you my friends … and may there not be one single dicky bird in sight 🙏