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The Laundry Maven of Valrico

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By Dawn Zamanis

Published: March 6, 2007

I'd say living in my house is comparable to living inside a time bomb of tumultuous testosterone. It's everywhere. I kid you not. And any parent who is raising teenage boys will almost wholeheartedly agree.

You think teenage girls are bad? Let me share with you my insight as to what kind of mind-boggling mayhem five boys, including two teens can wreak on your life — insight you have probably already learned at this stage of the game.

Teenage boys have attitudes. And trust me, they mope -- oh do they mope. But what's different between the attitudes of teen boys and teen girls is quite clear. Teenage girls will tell you what they want, and why they are moping around the house, and tell you everything that's wrong, and everything that's wrong with you, and how everyone has it so much better than she does, while opening and closing the fridge 10 times in one hour, never actually eating anything.

Oh contraire, teenage boys zip past you at the speed of light, mumbling and reeking of some new popular cologne, hair wet from a two-second shower, grabbing an apple, a Pop-Tart and a skateboard, departing without saying much of anything at all. Sometimes they might bellow from the front curb before they take off that they need a new pair of sneakers, and then they're off. Eventually, they all return hungry and dirty. During the time they are wiping out my food supply, I find myself doing six loads of laundry a day. Two of those loads are clothes of kids that don't belong to me.

I had realized rather quickly that I was washing all the neighborhood kids' clothes, namely T-shirts and jackets that they had left at our house to go skate ramps and gaps all over Valrico. There I was laundering the clothes of kids I didn't know, wondering if I should. As it I didn't have enough clothes to wash each day!

I would say to my son, "Whose clothes are these? And why am I washing them?"

My son would answer in the most ordinary voice. "Oh, they're Joey's clothes, he left them here because they got really dirty and his mom would get mad if she saw them."

Well that explains it. I am now the secret muddy stain removal laundry maven of Valrico, whose life goal is to spend the rest of her days pre-treating stains for other people's kids' clothes.

Let's face the fact that boys are slobs for the most part. It's just the way they're born. It's innate. They can't help themselves. It's really no reflection on their parents. Most boys aren't the least bit interested in wearing really clean clothes or matching clothes. Instead they prefer shirts with gaping holes in the armpits.

Of course, every once in a while we try to use our "parental influence" in the gentlest way possible to nudge our kids to wear something with perhaps less holes or less dirt, but to no avail. I wonder what the schools they attend must think of our kids' choice of attire. Do they blame us? I really hope not.
Then there's the teenage sleepover – which I have banned in my home for several reasons, not the least of which include broken ceiling fans and a toothpaste fight which must have ensued after I took my sleeping pill. I woke up to find my kids' room covered in green gel toothpaste (the toughest kind to remove) from one end of the room to the other.

I don't think teenage girls are into this kind of thing. I know I wasn't. As a teen, if I slept at a friend's home, yes, I admit we did make a lot of noise, but mainly all we did was talk about boys and paint each other's nails. But you have to remember I grew up in the tough streets of east Flatbush. For those of you who aren't familiar with that locale, it is in Brooklyn, not the best area to be raised. And it most certainly wasn't the suburbs.

If we did get bored, (and we did) we'd walk a block or two to Lello's Pizzeria and hang out, grab a slice and a Coke and play Space Invaders for hours. Or Pac-Man. There was always a store open less than two blocks away from the house where we would hang out. They had an awesome candy store and lots of fortune tellers up and down the avenue. And we were almost in eyeshot of our parents; they always knew where we were.

Here in the boondocks, life is more difficult for me anyway. Country roads and forests and kids with no transportation, roads with no street lights and not a store for miles, make me nervous. They leave with the clothing on their back, a bike or a skateboard and they're off, riding and skating for miles and miles to reach their destination.

I admit I am not a suburban mom by any stretch of the imagination, although I have learned some tricks of the trade.

For the most part, I take great pride in knowing that the kids my kids have chosen to become friends with are an entourage of seemingly good kids. I am really thankful for that.

I know it won't last forever, because sometimes kids drop friends like a bad habit.

And then I must learn to get to know the new crowd (and their mother's laundry habits rather quickly) to avoid washing and pre-treating all their kids clothes. After all, I am not the laundry maven of Valrico.

Dawn Zamanis is a Valrico resident and the mother of five sons. She has been a freelance writer for national magazines and news publications and can be contacted through thebrandonnews@mediageneral.com.

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