We had a weekend in which the boys played football, watched football, and talked football . . . way too much testosterone, in my humble opinion. So when they settle on the couch to watch a little Monday night football before bed, I knew what to do.
"Tonight,I get the t.v.," I announce. "And I'm watching Dancing with the Stars."
It only takes three seconds, and I am completely and totally alone. Wearing my comfy pj's I stretch out on the couch and sigh contentedly. There's not a testosterone anything in sight.