W is for WASHING UP. Yes, I know, I know, a trivial sort of subject. But with boys, it's the trivial that makes you fear for your sanity.

Of course it's a breakthrough when they make their own sandwich, cook their own meal. They glow with achievement and you - foolishly - hold out a small glimmer of hope that they might be taking some responsibility for themselves. Then you see that that look of bewilderment.

Plates and encrusted mugs litter every available surface. Pans sit congealing on the draining board. Gloop drips down the cupboard doors.

And the boys look at it, uncomprehendingly. Seeing no possible link between what they've just eaten and the vast number of pots and pans they needed to cook it.

And they all do science in school these days right? So you'd think that somewhere they would have learnt that it needs hot water to wash dishes and that cold water hardly slides the grease around.

Don't, whatever you do, give in and do it yourself. Feigning incompetence is man's oldest trick for getting away without doing things. And your boys will be no different.

Worst of all, is when you try to call for team work - one boy washing another wiping. Ha!

Accusation and counter accusation fly across the kitchen. The way the wiper-up will inspect every cup and plate with the attention to detail that would have done their grannies proud. The tiniest stain, the hint of a smear and they pounce. "Call that clean?" they will say in a triumph of righteous indignation.

But wait, the washer-up is not beaten. Just when you think that all is quiet, the job's done and you can sit down for a bit of peace and quiet, the door is flung open, the washer-up has been going through the cupboards and now strides into the room clutching a plate with the merest hint, no more than a suggestion, of moisture.

"Call this dried?" he will roar and push the offending plate under the drier-up's nose.

So rewarding, isn't it, to make sure the boys help with the household tasks?

W is also for the WORST age. Tricky one this, as it varies from boy to boy. But a fair guess would be that the worst age of all is 14. Why?

Well, at 14 they are full of hormones, spots and attitude and it's still a horrible shock to the pair of you. You've lost your baby and he hasn't got used to this strange new body he's acquired. Not to mention the voice that's all over the place.

You can't really blame him for being a pain in the neck.

But the big problem is that although everything is changing, nothing really has changed at all. As far as freedom goes, 14 is really not much more advanced than 12. They are still children. The trouble is that they think they're men. Ho hum. Prepare for battles.

At least time is on your side. Soon they will be 15 and 16 and even the law allows them some freedoms then - if only to smoke, have sex and risk life and limb on a motorbike. Try not to think about it.

The problems might not get any easier - but at least they'll be different...

MANY thanks to Irene Small of Harrogate whose sons, aged 21 and 23 are still living at home.

The Smalls went on holiday, leaving their sons with strict instructions not to go into their parents' bedroom. But when they got home, Irene found her hairdryer had been used. Most odd, as both sons have No. 1 haircuts.

Then all was explained - second son had used the hairdryer to dry his one and only pair of Calvin Klein underpants.

"Maybe a hot date was on the cards," says his mum, understandingly.

Let's hope it was worth the effort.

Published: 02/10/2003