Mowgli...

It's a fact. I am surrounded by boys all the time. The female touch is in a minority in this house. We're just 4 girls as opposed to, let me count, 7, plus another two who knock on my door regularly, that makes them 9. It's always me and the boys, it's been that way for ages, and it's not going to change now. I don't mind. Boys are ok, especially my boys. It's been me and my boy ever since I wasn't yet seeing daylight. It was me and my boy being born. And I have been so very very blessed by my boy, a playmate at first, then a companion, and now inseparable twins. Then came the boyfriends, and yes, yes, I know my taste in men when in my teens wasn't good. I loved the bad boys. Perhaps because they provided a multitude of excitement, so from one bad boy to the next. I finally made it somehow, with a good boy who still provides the excitement. Then came the dog, the cats, and a parrot for good measure. It's like a recreation of the Jungle Book in here. I even have my very own Bagheera who might not be as big, but just as slinky as the one in Kipling's book. It is my boys who kick my ass (very gently) when I start falling into a dangerous rut, it's my boys whom I allow to hear me cry in desperate situations, it's my boys who pick out the jewellery (most of it anyway), it's my boys who do my hair, it's my boys who do everything.

A Jungle Book. It just needs a Mowgli.....