Monday, April 11, 2011

In Order to Protect the Innocent...

I will not use a specific name.

I am also not using his legal name in order to avoid a lawsuit.

As well, I don't want to be disowned.

So you'll just have to guess. But his identity is representative. As in, he was repping his gender. Well. Very well.

One of my sons and I were together in a vehicle. One of us was driving. The other one wasn't.

Son: How much do salespeople make?

Mom: Enough to support a family.

Son: But what about the extras?

Mom: (wanting clarity on his definition of "extras" as well as exploring the idea of "lifestyle" asks a few questions about values and offers a few suggestions regarding home ownership) and concludes with: This is something that your wife will want to weigh in on.

Son: (completely exasperated) What the hell are you talking about? I just want to know if being a salesperson is a good job.  I ask a simple question and you go off all over the place talking about who knows what and making no sense at all...

Mom: This is called having a conversation. It meanders all over the place, touching on different topics, circling round and round and eventually getting back to the point.

Son: THAT IS WHACKED. (or something similar) You call that a conversation. I call that crazy. Who talks like that? WHAT WAS THAT?

Mom: This is how women communicate.

Son: I just wanted a one word answer... not ... that... whatever it was that you did. That? Was retarded.

Mom: That? Is why women are like spaghetti and men are like waffles. I just bought you that book for Easter, by the way. It will help you understand...

Son: I can get all the information I want from the internet. I don't need a book ...


A few weeks ago, after being struck with a flash of brilliance, I thought I'd pick up some current 'dating/young adult/navigating through life' books for my kids. To soften the delivery, I'd sugar coat the gift, so to speak, by putting the books in their Easter baskets along with chocolates, Nerds, Fuzzy Peaches and gift certificates. Maybe, while experiencing the inevitable chocolate induced sugar coma, they'd start reading the books and be all, "Wow. This is good stuff. So applicable. So timely. Thanks mom. You give such fun, practical gifts. We love you and will rise up to call you blessed."

Maybe I'll give the books to their girlfriends.

Three things I'm thankful for:
1. Conversations in vehicles with sons.
2. End of life bananas on counter. Banana bread tomorrow...
3. The Best Friends in the World. Seriously.


1 comment:

Christine Lindsay said...

I hope I'm one of the good friends. Thinking of you.