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Thursday, 7 July 2011

The ABSINTHE Incident

Well, CG was away on business this week, and I missed him.  He called twice while he was away... actually three times because our first call got dropped.  Stupid cellphone.  I have assigned a fun ring-tone to him, and it makes me smile every time I hear it... it's the theme song to Charlie Brown.  Never really liked the show though...

Yesterday he was supposed to get home at around 11:30 pm... I got a cute note from him at about 8 saying he had come home early and was just leaving the airport... then he called to ask if I wanted a him to swing by on his way home to give me a hug... that has to be good right?  A "drive-by hugging" sounded like a good plan, so he popped in and we had a visit before he went home to the teens. NOT a booty call....really. 

His baby girl is turning 17 today, and it's interesting to hear her plans for celebrating, which, incidentally don't include him... He's a good parent, and therefore worries about her.... Having BEEN a 17 year old girl, I have to say, he's right to worry a little...

I remember being 17 VERY well.  While you have that moral grounding your parents have given you, that's the time you really start to push their boundaries and question their limits.  It's also when you still think your parents had zero life before you came along so who the hell are they to tell you what to do... and GOD KNOWS they have no life now....

From the Parental Unit's viewpoint, it's hard not to get into lecture mode...you try to bite your tongue as you watch your little darlings mess up...Problem is, no matter what you say, your kids will make some of the same stupid mistakes you did, and they'll make different ones.  

It's also time to reflect on the fact that whether you like it or not, YOU are doing just what you hated your parents doing to you when YOU were 17...and then you thank GOD your kids don't know what you were LIKE at 17, because Holy SHIT if they do HALF the stuff you did you're gonna be horrified, and you'll never be able to sleep... at least for the next 5 - 6 years....

This is where you have to take a step back and allow them to fall flat on their pretty little faces, and sometimes that's really hard to do.  Sometimes though, it's kinda funny to look back on later...

A couple of years ago, when my younger son "Toby" was 17, he asked if he could spend the night at a friend's place.  I wasn't too keen on it as I didn't know the kid or his mom.  Of course I got the big argument from my son, saying that I was "So GAY", because I'd MET the kid some time ago amongst the gaggle of teens that always seem to be around my house.  He called the kid, and asked him to talk to me to let me know they were working on a project for school, and that there would be a parent home.  My spider senses were tingling, but against my better judgement I allowed him to stay there to get caught up on this schoolwork....

About three hours later, I get a call:

Schoolwork buddy:   "Um.... hi.  Can you come and get Toby...he's not...um...feeling well." 

Me:  "Wha'd'ya mean not "FEELING WELL"?"

Schoolwork buddy:  "Well... he had too much to drink and he's sick..."

Me:  "WTF!  You know he's 17, right?  What were you drinking, and how much did he have?"

Schoolwork buddy:  "Well, we split a bottle of ABSINTHE..."

Me:  "Seriously?  ABSINTHE?  You KNOW that stuff is a halucinogenic and was outlawed for like 100 years, right?  Perfect.  I thought you told me your mom was gonna be home."

Schoolwork buddy:  "She IS."

So, when I got there to pick up my little darling, "Mom" had made herself scarce.  My baby was absolutely green, and was carrying a trashcan SHE had been classy enough to give him for the ride home... it was about a quarter full when I got there....  Found out later it had been about half full, but he had a little spill on her pretty new carpet...ain't Karma a bitch?

I always told the boys if they were ever drinking and needed a ride that I'd be there, and I really did try not to lecture, but I had a new car, and the last thing I needed was etched paint down the side, or for it to smell like "Eau D' Kid Puke" for the rest of eternity, so I only managed to bite my tongue for about half the ride... and when he started heaving again, I told him he'd BETTER not miss the damn bucket....

When we arrived home, I was also less than understanding when he told me he didn't think he could walk into the house... we lived on a cul-de-sac with some neighbors who always knew what was going on at everyone else's house...

I said "Frankly, Toby, I don't give a SHIT how you get in the house... crawl if you have to, but don't you DARE spill that F-ing bucket getting out of my car... and you get your butt inside because the neighbors are NOT gonna see you splayed out on the lawn...." 

What I didn't tell him, was that I had an evening rather similar after my first son was born...and I was 29 at the time...  although I wasn't spending the night at someone's house,  I was at a party with my ex-husband, and it involved a bunch of lawyer, draft beer and a hot tub... I was the one puking and leaving permanent etch stains down the side of the car... As always, he was the lecturer, telling at me to crawl in the damn house,   but that's a WHOLE other story....

Isn't it amazing what your gene pool will do?   I am a lot more like my dad in temperment, but I found out there's a lot of my mom in me too... that little epiphany came as I planned out my actions for dealing with my hungover little prince the morning after the "Absinthe Incident"... I took perverse DELIGHT in banging pots and pans, vacuuming and cooking snotty eggs and greasy bacon,  All family traditions in my house growing up when there was a hungover kid in the house... I never realized how much fun it was to torture your kids... THANKS Mom!


Later....

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