God had other plans, and my house is currently overrun with three boys and their trucks and Star Wars guys and muddy sneakers. Even when they're filthy, I have to beg them to bathe. Some of their actions and needs are so foreign to me that I have to read entire books about raising them, just so I don't lose my mind. One of the chapters in the most recent book I read was entitled "Get Used to Skid Marks."
And the truth? Boys are so much fun. They are infinitely more fun than I remember being at their age. They are wild, fearless, and almost like dogs in their need to be outside, free, running off energy. My doorbell just rang, and I figured it was the neighbor dropping off something I had asked her for. Instead, I found this on my stoop:
You might as well have given them each a car. They adore amphibians.
They haven't been this giddy since they found the dead chipmunk, christened it John, and attempted to bring it into their bedroom.
Be careful what you wish for. God will give you something better.