Turns out you can burn your undies

I marvel, and get my best laughs, every time I chat with moms who have produced multiple males. It’s a wonder that any man with a brother lives to tell about it. I understand these tales of male siblings are not so funny when they are happening. But for at least one of the brothers and for me, it’s a scream.
“So,” I say, casually and with affection, to a friend I haven’t seen lately. “How are those boys?”
“Oh … fine,” she replies, with a weary smile on her face.
A pause, and I wait for it, knowing something amazing is about to be revealed.
“Well, Sam set Don’s underpants on fire last weekend — while he was still wearing them.”
She graciously waits while I get back up from the floor with tears in my eyes. It takes a minute, as I am still gasping with laughter. She knows my next question will be to ask why this happened, and she heads me off with the full story, which still has me giggling. She, being the amazing woman that she is, drove her two boys, a friend and the dog up to San Francisco during spring break. That right there is a funny story waiting to be told. Well, yes, the dog threw up in the car. Well, actually he pooped in the car, too, but she didn’t tell the boys.
“It was right on the seat where they would be sitting, so I just cleaned it up, went heavy on the air freshener, and no one was the wiser.” This is one smart mama.
I’m doubled over again as she goes on to tell about shopping Chinatown with one of the boys in tow. They made the mistake of wandering into an antique store filled with delicate things. This is where the music foreshadows disaster. Off the child goes up some stairs where he’s not supposed to be. Mother goes in chase, dragging him back down as the proprietor is yelling at them. And who knocks over the $75 table and breaks it? Why the well-meaning mother, of course. I know. I know. I shouldn’t be howling with hilarity at this poor momma-of-boys. But this could star Jamie Lee Curtis and some kid from “High School Musical 2.”
I digress. Aside from the shattered antique, the other item the boys brought home from Chinatown was firecrackers. Mother, of course, was unaware of this little purchase. In the boys’ defense, I have to say I have never met a man of any age who can resist the siren call of fireworks. It was the aforementioned explosives that initially set the underpants on fire, because they were sort of throwing them at each other. One was bound to go down the pants eventually. Women everywhere are horrified. Men everywhere are chuckling. It is absolutely a guy thing.
No one was hurt when all was said and done. The boys were verbally scorched, however, and lessons were learned. Someday, but no time soon, I hope to tell them how much I enjoyed hearing about it all.

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