I’ve been looking into the past recently and reconnecting with some friends from my youth.  I love seeing the adults that grew from kids who were an important part of my life so long ago.  What’s even more humorous to me is the fact that my kids are at an age when many of my rediscovered friends and I first met.   I look at my eleven-year-old and am shocked at how clearly I remember the age which he is right now.  Middle-school?!  Wasn’t I just in middle-school?  I remember it vividly, mostly because it was about the time that I went boy crazy.

Oh, was there ever anything so glorious as a middle-school boy?  They were just so DIVINE, with their wit and charm, casual good looks and just a hint of danger.   I was sure that without the affections of a middle-school boy, life was an empty void not worth living.  Sadly, my love was mostly unrequited.  Melodrama became the new normal in my house as tears were shed on a daily basis over my heartbreak.

Well, now I spend more time than I ever could have dreamed with middle-school boys and I have to admit that my perspective has changed somewhat.  I still find them mysterious, but in a “What could you possibly be thinking?” kind of a way.  I could go into a long rant about the re-use of dirty socks or the tact of communicating friendship through slaps on the head or even the nuanced skill it takes to burp out the national anthem. Oh yes, I could, but I think the following sums up the essence of middle-school boy best.  

I give you a Mad Lib that the Monkey and company recently completed.  Enjoy.

A recent survey informs us that one out of every 7 chips owns a hot phone.  Fortunately, farting over a mobile popcorn in recent years has improved farting.  Today butt-held butts are all the rage.  In restaurants you find many butts talking fartingly into their stinky phones as they eat their butt. 2 percent of American butts place their butt calls from their cars as they are farting to and from their home, office or fart.  Walking and talking are now the “in” butt to do.  Over 2 percent of Americans walk our stinky streets with hand-held butts pressed against their butts.

And my favorite part of this whole crazy circle?  I know that there is a gaggle of middle-school girls out there who think they are just divine.