Captain Carl is going away for 3 days next week for a business meet and greet in Oklahoma. He's leaving me alone with the renters. And the 3rd roommate and her cat are moving in during that time. Aack! I'm totally outnumbered!
And I can't even count the Kiddo on my side, even though he'll be there. Because he's closer to their age than mine and therefore he is a dumbass by association. Last night he saw Eco Nazi in the kitchen and said "Hey dude, what's up?" and Eco Nazi said "Not much, how's it hangin?" and then Eco Nazi offered the Kiddo some of his totally bad ass shrimp with spanish fried rice and the Kiddo offered Eco Nazi some of his pizza and then they were all "sweet" and "awesome" and "later" and then I shot myself in the face.
Yep, you read that correctly - spanish fried rice. With shrimp. Hurl.
Last night, the Kiddo failed to come home after band practice. The Captain and I had an appointment we could not miss, so we told the Kiddo to catch a ride home from practice, which ends around 5pm. So we get home at 6:45 and the Kiddo is nowhere to be seen. 25 unanswered calls and 10 text messages to his cell later, he's still not home and we are starting to freak out. Visions of car wrecks dance through my head.
At 7:30, we decide to drive around looking for him. And if any of you have ever tried to find a teenager in a suburban city, you know how impossible that task can be. Luckily, we decided to drive by the school relatively early in our quest. Low and behold, there was a basketball game. And after convincing the beat down mom selling tickets that I just wanted to peek into the gym to find my missing son and really I would be right back and wouldn't need to buy a ticket and please for the love of all that is good and holy let me in that gym or I'm going to lose it right here in front of you lady and when the cops come to drag me off I'll tell them it was all your fault....I found him. Standing with some of his dorky band friends, flirting with the cheerleaders and wearing his 80's jeans.
I was ecstatic he was alive.
I decided I was going to kill him.
So I walk over, tap him on the shoulder and smile when he says, "Hey what's up!". Then I grab him by the arm and say "Hey let's go talk over here for a minute." all unnaturally happy and smiley but shooting daggers from eyes....because I wanted only him to know he was in deep shit. I didn't want the strangers around me to realize I was about to lay the smackdown on my kid in a public place. He immediately picked up on it and got worried. Real worried. Smart kid, that one.
The first thing I told him was "It's a damn good thing I'm in here to look for you instead of your father, or right this very minute you would be the most embarassed kid to ever walk the halls of this high school. 20 years from now, people would be telling the story of the kid who's father screamed at him in front of the whole school and how that kid never ever ever got another date, especially with a cheerleader and all because he didn't bother to call and tell his parents where he was."
Then I smiled again, took a deep breath and proceeded to explain to him why he was in trouble and that we would see him after the game to discuss the matter. Then I put my hand over my heart because the national anthem was starting and I'm nothing if not a patriotic parent. When the choir kids finished their screaching yet heartwarming rendition of the anthem, I shot him one last warning look and stomped out.
Parenting is awesome.
My First Huffington Post Piece
2 weeks ago