Any parent with boys knows that they can be a handful, and are not exactly the cleanest of animals at the best of times. I was certainly no different when my folks were raising me and my sister (two years older) during the 1980s.
One of my mom’s bugbears with me, when I was about seven or eight or so, was my bathroom habits. I would inevitably dribble urine on the floor, leave towels just lying around on the floor after a shower, that sort of thing. By the time of this story, those kind of habits had already earned me several sore bottoms across Mom’s knee.