I won’t go into detail because someday my son might run across this post. But let’s just say I was putting away laundry when I found a few things hidden in the bottom of a drawer in my 13-year-old son’s room. After my eyes stopped bleeding, I downed a shot of Fireball and moved on with my day. I’m sure the moms of boys out there can relate.
I suppose there’s a bright side. As a friend of mine told me this afternoon after I texted her in all caps, “At least he didn’t have one of your books along with it to use as his material.” Thank God for small favors, I guess.
I think I may need one more shot of Fireball.