…you aren’t even shocked anymore when your son announces that he has to go to the bathroom and then gets up from the couch to walk outside into your yard to handle his business.
…your dirty sock pile is like twice as big as your dirty underwear pile. Because Dudes pretty much know they can wear their underwear for two days and not change them, but itchy socks have to come off every night before bed.
…the only bathroom in the house that has a reliable supply of toilet paper is your own. No one seems to care when it runs out anywhere else and no one ever thinks to mention it when it does.
…you are counting down the days until every human in the house is taller than you.
…you’ve perfected the sound that a turbo blaster hyper ray makes with your mouth.
…you’ve discussed the appropriate terms to use to discuss a Dude’s junk in public. Because they are always discussing it in public. And hearing your son say, “My nuts are all itchy,” or “He kicked me in the balls!” while in line at Target is what nightmares are made of.
…you know how long it takes your bathroom to start smelling like a bus station: one day. One. Freaking. Day.
…there are many days where you arrive at your dinner table and announce, “No one eats until everyone is wearing underwear!”
…you’ve been asked, in an outside voice, why you “pee outta your butt” while doing so in a public restroom.
…every single room of your house has a ball in it. Or a Nerf bullet. Or both.
…you’ve been dunked on. And sacked. And chest bumped. Like you were one of the guys. Because sometimes they forget that you aren’t and secretly, you love that.
…you have your own cape. For superhero-ing.
…you don’t expect more than one word answers to pretty much any question you ask unless it’s about snakes, or dinosaurs, or video games, or football.
…you have rooms in your house that don’t have a lot of furniture in them in order to make room for horse play. Or, because they already broke it during their horse play.
…you know who would win in a battle between Thor and the Green Lantern. (Thor, duh)
…when you open their soccer bag that has been under the bed all winter, you’re not shocked to discover it has wet, dirty socks in it, and you barely even gag at the smell.
…whenever someone in your house is hurt or sick or scared or sad, there is one single person they want there with them… you.