Misty knew guys didn't think like girls.

Ever since she was a teenager, she always wondered how the guys thought, how did they feel about everything around them, what ran inside their heads... she was curious, because she had no male figure in her life.

When she met Ash, he frustrated her. He sure did drive her crazy. It was something new she was experiencing; his little nice gestures, combined with his somewhat mean words, and that smirk and look he gave her sometimes... it was impossible catching him or even catching up to him. He always found a way to make her scream her lungs out and throw her handbag at him (even after they got married).

And then, surprise! Her first baby was a boy, Anthony (Uhm, yeah, no Isabelle or Elizabeth...).

Oh, a boy.

Sure, she was okay with any gender, but boys were a new challenge for her. Boys were not like her, and she knew she will learn a lot by raising one.

"Are you going to keep trying until you get a girl?"

Two, Christopher.

"Oh, it's a boy? Again? I'm so sorry..."

Three, Dylan.

"You know, even if you had another child, there would be no guarantee it would be a girl."

And when Misty was pregnant with her fourth baby, Stella was straightforward about things (Misty presumed she lost a bet or something, considering they always made Chloe say things like these):

"Uhm... mom said to call her if it's a girl..."

Unlike Misty's own sisters, who gave birth to both girls and boys, Stella's second was a boy too, and Chloe's twins turned out to be both boys. It was all-boys' party. Eric and Stella decided they had enough kids and Chloe didn't want to be stuck with a lot of children as Jacob traveled all the time.

Four... Matthew.

People just didn't get it. Misty and Ash didn't have their second, third or even fourth baby because they were trying for a girl. Misty wasn't disappointed at all. She loved her four boys. They were amazing. Ash loved them too, and the two were sure their girls would have been too, if they had any.

Misty was excited, and sure did have some expectations when it comes to the little princes:

"Oh, you'll be treated like a queen!"

Reality: no, not even close. No one cares if you're the only female in the house. Maybe the right word to pick is chambermaid. Hints: toys, legos, legos, legos, and more legos to pick up—and to step on.

"Boys never keep something on its place with their roughhousing and playing!"

Reality: On its place? They mean in one piece. Ash's laptop broke in half and the screen shattered, he lost two phones, and their neighbor found the third in his backyard—again, with the screen completely broken. Misty's chargers went always missing, the curtain rods got always yanked down, Misty's necklaces got always broken, and the cat was completely traumatized and soaking wet once.

He died after a week or so, and Ash and Misty are still not sure (to this day) what did they make him eat as they found something green smashed into his face.

Let's just say the first years were rough... very rough. Misty quit her job because working at night and raising four little boys didn't really make a good combination, and Ash stopped working from home by the time she gave birth to Chris.

He also developed a really bad habit, which is heavy, deep sleep, so Misty couldn't really rely on him when it came to watching the kids. He'd just eat his food and go sleep—and good luck waking him up (even the next morning).

But Misty did really get used to it. She loved being an all-boys mom, and during their teen years, on a bright warm morning, when they went to the beach, and she was dressed in her beach colorful dress and hat, watching Ash trying hopelessly to catch up with the seventeen years old Tony, fourteen years old Chris, twelve years old Dylan and little seven years old Matt who were running full speed to the water and screaming for no specific reason, she realized that:

- She never had worry about being the grossest person in the house, because that spot was always occupied by one of the boys.

- Her sons reached things she couldn't reach on that stupid high shelf in the grocery store (Bless Ash's genes. They all turned out to be tall).

- Nobody cared in the house when Zayn left One Direction. Her sons probably didn't know Zayn belonged to that band, or that band even existed.

- She never had to stand in line for three hours to see a Disney princess.

- She was exposed to things she'd never had taken an interest in on her own, like cars, which she never thought she'd call someday 'beautiful'.

Okay, she saw things from the bright side, what's so wrong about that? Maybe she'll never see her daughter wear her wedding dress, she'll never watch her own daughter become a mother, and she'll never get exposed to the 'girl world', but that's alright.

She was exposed to another world, of another... kind.

"It's Matthew's mom over there!"

"What? Where?"

"You girls are too loud! Shhh!"

*giggles*

Misty decided not to turn around. She kept walking slowly, scanning the Beauty & Personal Care aisle and looking for the anti-aging cream. (No judging. Her eldest was engaged, and she had a soon-to-be daughter-in-law to look good in front of for the upcoming Christmas)

"Wheeeere?"

"Shhh! Shhhhhh! Over there!"

"The one with the golden wedge slippers and red nail polish?"

"She's wearing cropped tight jeans..."

"How old do you think she is? Is Matt her first?"

"Nooo! He's the youngest—and stop speaking so loudly!"

Misty smiled slightly. She picked up some cream tubes and put them back.

"His mom is ginger?! You're not serious. Nope."

"She's curvy—how old is she?"

"That's not our problem!"

"Are you sure she's his mom?"

"I don't think so..."

"And you think Hannah wouldn't know her crush's mom? She stalks him!"

"Hey! Shhhhh!"

"She won't turn around! I want to see if Matt looks like her!"

"Let's talk to her—Hi Mrs. Ket—UMMMMMMMF!"

Misty decided to turn around this time. She sighed and chuckled to herself. There was no sight of the girls.

None of the others before her succeeded in talking to Misty anyway, so it wasn't a surprise. She wasn't sure why they always feared talking to her. Was being the mother of the boy that intimidating? She didn't even know those girls.

"Oh my god oh my god it's Tony's mom!"

"Chris's mom! Hide me! HIDE ME!"

"I saw Dylan's mom! Let's leave this place and FAST!"

Oh, Misty will just never know.

"Found it!" sixteen years old Matthew joined his mom's side and threw some granola bars boxes in the shopping cart. Okay, not some, but a lot.

"That's too many." Misty eyed the boxes.

"They eat all of them when they come home, remember?" Matthew always used the same argument to buy more; his brothers always ate his Pringles (Kind of true... they literally chased after each other –and destroyed the house in the process– for those potato chips), his cereals, his Twix and his video games too.

"Okay, fine. Are they sugar-free at least?" There was no way in hell she was going to look like a whale in front of Anthony's fiancée. No way in hell.

"Yeah, yeah. I brought those for you too—why do you even care? You look great, mom. Honestly."

Misty giggled quietly and kissed her son on the cheek.

She couldn't believe how lucky she was.

THE END.

"Don't kiss me in public! Ugh!"

For Abby who doesn't like doing her math homework:

Matthew: 16

Dylan: 21

Christopher: 23

Anthony: 26

Thanks to anyone who took time to read, vote or comment on this story. It's REALLY appreciated.  I hope you bootyful readers enjoyed the story!  

Bye for now!