an ode to those making homes with boys

We buy band-aids in bulk.

We manage to look amazed (and not even a little grossed out)
when a worm is dangled under our nose.

We pick up Lego pieces invisible to the naked eye.

We make rules like
'No throwing boogers'
and 'No swords at the dinner table.'

We do eleventy-hundred loads of laundry a day.

We are terrible at car crash sound effects
(but we make them anyway).

We pretend to be dragons
and dinosaurs
and knights
and pirates
and big scary sock-eating monsters.

We kiss milk mustaches.

We know the difference between
a 'we're just having good loud fun' noise
and a 'someone's about to go to the ER' noise.

We find pebbles in the dryer.

We sneak into their rooms at night to stare at them
because it is the only time
when they are quiet and still enough to let us.