Thursday, July 21, 2011

With my mouth still hanging open...

One of my children, who shall remain nameless because he would kill me if I named him, is about to enter high school.  He is also about to enter puberty, he's a late bloomer.  Anyone who has children of both genders knows that both boys and girls become hormonal messes at this stage in life.  Girls get the bad rap for going crazy during puberty, and again later in life when going through peri and full on menopause.  But, you know what, that's crap.  I have two boys and three girls and I can tell you, my boys cried more and had more breakdowns during this time that all my girls combined.  My friends with boys can attest to this fact. Is this supposed to be some unspoken secret?

Last night I thought I had planned a lovely little summer night outing here in the Arctic Seattle.  We walked down to our local outdoor mall to watch a concert and grab dinner.  This is apparently where things started to go terribly wrong, although I'm not sure why.  First he sits there sullenly with his fingers in his ears because he doesn't approve of the music, I say "hey, why don't you two go into the Apple store and look around while we have a drink and enjoy the music for a while."  Great idea, they head in.  I did not have my cell with me but Mike did.  The "unnamed one" apparently tried calling a million times (twice) but Mike didn't pick up (loud music, duh).  Keep in mind that we never left the place we last saw them, still sitting in the same place and able to see the Apple store from where we are.  Here they come, one looking adorable and perky, the other looking like what I imagine the Menendez brothers looked like just before they murdered their parents.  Really?  Soooo, then I say "let's go get dinner, where do you want to go?"  Grace says buoyantly "Blue C Sushi", I say to the "unnamed one" where would you like to go "unnamed one"?  "I don't care" is the response, still looking like he was born to Satan incarnate.  "Okay, sushi it is"...oops, wrong again.  He sat at the booth glaring at the food as it passed him on the conveyor belt and then occasionally glanced at Satan accusingly.  I say "You know what, it looks like you aren't happy with our choice, we pass McDonald's on the way home, we'll just stop in and get you a burger".  I'm so incredibly nice I can't stand myself.  (I'm tired of using quote marks so I'm going to stop that now)  I bet you can guess what happens next.  We go into McDonald's and the unnamed one isn't hungry, but he's still really mad, about what I'm still not sure.  I'm loosing my cool now and saying some of those evil motherly things that occasionally come from my mouth.    I won't repeat.  Then he says to me that I'm one more word away from him going to live with his father.  Oh, and he isn't going on the road trip with us next month.  Seriously.  Then he runs ahead, over the hill toward home.  It's now dark and I'm pretty sure he is going to pretend that he ran away or something, he'll be hiding somewhere just to teach me a lesson.  As usual, I am correct. He's no where.  I've been a mother for quite some time so I know that the manual states that I am to pretend I'm not concerned.  Turn on the TV and kick back like I don't care. I did that and he did slink in about 15 minutes later, not even a mean looking glance was cast my direction, up the stairs he went and he hasn't spoken to me since.

What the freak just happened?

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