Is That Like a 'Contact High?'

With two teenage boys in the apartment at the same time, our home is experiencing hormonal overload. Damn that pituitary gland! There are fights and arguments and threats and yelling and shoving and pushing and throwing stuff and swearing and more. I am quite sick of the fact that we don't have a backyard to throw them into with boxing gloves until they either are too exhausted to argue or one has been determined the head rooster of this here hen-house and they'll just shut up and leave the rest of us be. But that's just not going to happen for several more months. In the interim, I will continue dodging the flying shoes and insults and practice meditating while saying my mantra repeatedly: "BOARDING SCHOOLS ARE AWESOME. BOARDING SCHOOLS ARE AWESOME." Also, I'll have to see about a "preferred customer discount" at the salon where I get my face threaded. Thanks to all the flying hormones, I've developed a "contact mustache."