Hormones and Chicken Noodle Soup

Anyone who tells me I’m lucky to have three boys because I don’t have to go through a teenage girls hormonal imbalance has not met my son Ben.

After a week at a camp surrounded by 25 pre-teen and teenage girls, he has the hair flip (without the long hair but still the head tossed flip), sassy attitude and “chicken noodle soup" dances moves DOWN.

Chicken noodle soup is a new dance, rap/hip hop video of the young artist Webster.

Ben knows all the moves. It’s soooo cool.

Okay. I’m a little behind- I’m thinking Campbell’s mmm mmm good.

Not some freak dance hip nasty moves or something like that. I probably just said that completely out of order.

Last night, I was the meanest mother in the world because I asked him how camp was-

Can’t you just leave me alone? Why do you ask so many questions?

Allan and I looked at each other. I had literally asked one question.

He stormed off, then returned- telling stories about camp.

I made the mistake of opening my mouth again- some ridiculous follow up question like, what was the cook’s name?

And off he stormed again because I am the meanest mother in the ENTIRE WORLD.

Okay.

The final meltdown was over clearing the table after dinner- he had done enough chores all week and he wasn’t doing anymore. By this time, his attitude, fighting with his little brother and general obnoxiousness had done me in.

Go to bed, then.

I’m taking a shower first, he said, with a full tilt hair flip move, walking up the stairs.

I counted to two hundred. Ten? I need a lot more than ten now.

Jeanine went up to deal with him- she’s calmer and tends to be more sympathetic.

I heard him scream at her. I looked at Allan and Walter. They gave me the “let it be” look.

I heard more screaming from him.

I didn’t look at Walter and Allan, I went upstairs.

That’s enough, take your shower and go to bed, not one more word.

Jeanine and I came downstairs and she said, he’s upset that he didn’t get a letter or care package…

Did anyone? It was only five days.

No, no one else did but that’s not the point…

After Ben’s shower, he came downstairs and hugged all of us.

I’m so sorry… I love you…

We all looked at each other like a psycho pod person had been dropped in our midst.

It’s okay, Ben… I’m just glad you had a good time at camp.

He drifted up the stairs, yes, it was so fabulous…

So anyone out there telling me I’m lucky because I don’t have any hormones to deal with? C’mon over. I’ll show you hormones.

And some “Chicken Noodle Soup” dance moves.

Freaky. Or cool. or… something.