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At no time does it become more apparent that I live in a man’s world, than on vacation. At home, I am able to find some small refuge in the womanly (few that they are) aspects of my home. Here, in a camper with 5 boys and a husband (so, technically 6 boys) 34 feet seems mighty absent girl things. The bathroom is replete with about every kind of Axe shampoo, deodorant, shower gel and body spray that exists. Boy stuff is everywhere in the form of ipods, gameboys (yes, they seem to make a resurgence at 13 and 14) and music that makes my ears bleed and which I didn’t enjoy the first time around when I was their age. Yet, there is no screaming or screeching (both of which seem to be everywhere with girls around) and they are relatively low maintenance although I must admit feeding teenage boys is an art form in and of itself. You have to learn to quickly remove your hands, fingers and any other extremities that you might need or later want, in the face of food, particularly if its main ingredients are either fat or sugar.

And yet, as I sit here, I honestly cannot think of having it any other way. Yes, it is frustrating because no one wants to browse the little shops or do other things that another girl around might think was fun. But, I guess that leaves more time for me to spend alone, enjoying my solitude.


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