Sticky with filth

Fourteen-year-old boys are disgusting.
Yeah, it’s a blanket statement – and no, I don’t really remember fully my time as a 14-year-old – but it is one that I stand by. On visual evidence alone.
I have been witness to a 14-year-old.
“Ohhh, your breath,” my wife told him in the car yesterday. “Did you brush?”
“Yes.”
“With toothpaste?” I asked.
“Well, no.”
I cannot fathom putting a non-toothpasted brush in my mouth at the crack of noon; he seems to think this is normal.
I have to share a bathroom with the boy, so I know things. Ugly, disgusting things. Things that would make most people shudder.
He leaves turds in the toilet bowl; what’s worse, there’s no toilet paper.
“Do you use toilet paper?” I asked casually.
“Yes.”
“Uh, where does it go?”
He became so paranoid about stopping up my wife’s toilet – it’s nearest to his lair and he's a big believer in "the mitt" approach to wiping – that he was putting his wad into the trash can.
“Let’s just chalk this one up to bad judgment,” I said. “Just stop. Like, now.”
A few months back, I noticed that the liquid body soap and shampoo were not being depleted fast enough (for two people). I bought some bar soap and put a brand-new shampoo and soap in the shower. I used the bar soap and put it back in my travel case; neither new bottle was touched for a week.
I told his mother.
“Are you using soap?” she said, half-pleading.
“Well, no,” he said sheepishly.
He honestly believes that 40 minutes in scalding hot water – he’s drained the water heater more than once – will kill off anything that’s living on him. You just learn not to get so close.
Deodorant? Don’t get me started. He doesn’t use it, but when he does, he forgets which side is his in the medicine cabinet and uses mine (which immediately becomes his).
My wife hoped that once he discovered girls that his hygiene would improve. He's discovered girls - and we seem to be losing ground. He’s such a good-looking kid that I think the girls cut him some very wide slack. Too bad. Teenage girls usually are pretty cruel.
So we suffer – believe me, not in silence – while he stinks up the place. In more ways than one.
Yeah, he’s discovered a trick from the French; just keep putting on more cheap cologne to cover the ripeness that is him.

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