Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Tormented Tuesday

We just got home from the concert. The orchestra was awesome.
The car ride there and home was similar to being smeared with peanut butter and rolled in suet while birds of all sizes peck you over and over and over and over...............
These words were spoken no less than 73 times:
  • scoot your seat up my legs are crushed
  • seriously?
  • are you kidding me
  • she/ he/ you/ dad is the devil
  • my teacher is the antichrist
  • I am going to suck at the audition
  • my friends are coming Friday (from a city 3 hours away, I guess they are staying at the Funny Farm)
  • can you stop talking please?
  • I need money for............
  • why did you buy this stupid car
  • I am moving out in 3 months
  • turn up the music (his orchestra concert cd)
  • I need you to buy me a new trombone
  • my teacher has her own lumber company, she hands out so many papers
  • you are so rude
  • don't talk to me ever again
  • I am 18, I can do whatever I want
  • I can still Facebook from my phone
  • look at the weevil (a gross bug photo that is his screensaver)
  • what is happening here, I don't understand (when I try to put on regular music)
These were all uttered by an 18 year old using a very sarcastic voice and being very put upon that he had to ride with his family. (mom, dad, MIL, brother) He was texting, Facebooking from his cell, listening to his iPod and the car cd player at the same time.

After trying to have a civil conversation about his future and failing miserably, I gave serious thought to sending him to a poor, remote African village with a single tube of Burts Bees lip balm, a pair of Banana Republic boxer shorts and a box of Gushers. Instead of college.
Or secretly enrolling him in the Marine Corp. I will pack for him and give them my home address. I will not be there; goodbyes are so hard.
I understand that being a teenager is hard, especially when every single spare second of time is taken by some activity or another. And I know we are annoying because we talk to him and interact with him and are involved in his activities. And he has a curfew and has to carry a charged cellphone and has to let us know where he is, and must unload the dishwasher and put his laundry in the hamper and work one day a week folding sweaters and letting people in the dressing room at Ralph Lauren. The amount of neglect and abuse around here is astounding.
Then we ate at Burger King where I used the bathroom, washed my hands, and wondered to myself when did they start putting urinals in the ladies room. (women can wear pants too, stupid sign)
It has been a long day and I am fed up.

I am too tired to watch the Bachelor although some rat bastard at work was talking and gave away the ending. Creep.



  1. great...i have a 14 year old that is going to be exactly the same way, i know this because she is already starting!!

  2. Someday, he'll appreciate that he had such good, loving, concerned, and involved parents. Let's hope that "someday" comes before he drives you completely insane!


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