Wednesday, October 15, 2008

A 9x12 pan, not an 8x8 pan.

Anyone want a fourteen year old boy child? His appetite hasn't hit it's stride yet.

He's free. Absolutely FREE!

I'll give you twenty bucks and a pan of brownies too. Just take him for 24 hours.

Aren't fairy tales full of deals where some curmudgeonly character whisks away your firstborn in return for superpowers or wealth? I am tempted to check out to Neverland and I could use an ability to belch gift cards to Applebee's. Eatin' good in the neighborhood.

Let's not put on a freshly laundered and starched housewife apron and pretend I'm not frustrated with parenting this child. I'm frustrated as hell and today I'm tired. He's got an ever enduring pervasive character trait which won't serve him well as he goes forth into the world, for which I apologize in advance. We're trying, Lord knows, to drive better sense into his head. He'll finally get it and all this heartburn will have been worth it...or he won't and he'll be in charge when we're all in rest homes.

To put a positive spin on my frustration, he might have been born a girl and in addition to being such a joy in the ways he is already, he could also be in the weepy raging throes of estrogen.

Meh. I thought the estrogen thing would make me feel better. It didn't.

Yesterday I had him in his room with a bucket of soapy water, freshening the place. His room needed freshening for sure but the purpose was to make sure he had something useful to do after we'd done some work on this character trait of his. Might as well. I took away his MP3 player, and a bunch of CD-roms and an interesting array of foodstuffs which were abandoned between his mattress and bedsprings. These next few weeks he's going to be given a lot of useful things to do so he really doesn't have time to think.

So, I'm going to sit back a minute today, while he's at school, and just blink for a while.

And I'll try not to drink hard likker.


  1. I can break him. I can. I have broken three of 'em already. It's the obnoxious sense of humour and complete embarrassment that I shed over them. It really works!

    They crack. They cry. They capitulate. It's FABULOUS.

    Go on, try it, you'll like it! Plus it's fun. :D

  2. This is the sort of thing I'm waiting to have happen with my 14 year old. So far he is only exhibiting a little bit of cheekiness and we mostly (95%) have a REALLY good relationship. But as a single Dad who has been raising him by myself since he was 3 1/2 yrs old, I have this daily fear that the "testosterone poisoning" is just the delayed onset variety and that one day he'll emerge from his room changed beyond recognition. Gina, if it comes down to it I will avail myslef of your techniques. Becky, chin up and keep those MP3 player confiscations and other such sanctions in force. And remember that when it comes to driving priveleges you will have the ultimate leverage when you need it most when he turns 16. ;)

    Dave the Widower

  3. Not. Enough. Brownies. In. The. World.

    Might take likker though ;)

  4. I have always said I wanted children . . . all of you people I know with teenage (and older) male specimens are making me wonder.

  5. Call the hospital and ask if they want him back ;)

    Looks like thats not going to work eh.

    Times will get harder before they get better but in the end your child will realize that u are smart and not stupid like he is thinking right now.

    Good luck, i am sending u mine

  6. Noooooo freakin' thank you!

    I'm having a time with my own 14 yr old son!


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